Wheat Kings

Wheat Kings
Sundown in the Paris of the prairies
Wheat kings have all their treasures buried
And all you hear are the rusty breezes
Pushing around the weather vane Jesus

In his Zippo lighter, he sees the killer's face
Maybe it's someone standing in a killer's place
Twenty years for nothing, well that's nothing new, besides
No one's interested in something you didn't do
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings
There's a dreamy dream where the high school is dead and stark
It's a museum and we're all locked up in it after dark
Where the walls are lined all yellow, grey and sinister
Hung with pictures of our parents' prime ministers
Wheat kings and pretty things
Wait and see what tomorrow brings
Late breaking story on the CBC
A nation whispers, \"we always knew that he'd go free\"
They add, \"you can't be fond of living in he past
'Cause if you are then there's no way that you're gonna last\"
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what tomorrow brings
Wheat kings and pretty things
Oh, that's what tomorrow brings
Al caer la tarde en la París de las praderas, los reyes del trigo tienen todos sus tesoros enterrados, mientras se escuchan las brisas oxidadas empujando el veleta hacia Jesús...