Besedila: Decemberists. The King Is Dead. Calamity Song.

Had a dream, you and me and the war of the end times
And I believe California succumbed to the fault line
We heaved relief as scores of innocents died

And the Andalusian tribes
Setting the lay of Nebraska alight
'Til all that remain is the arms of the angels

Hetty Green, queen of supply-side bonhomie bone-drab
Know what I mean?
On the road, it's well advised that you follow your own bag
In the year of the chewable Ambien tab

And the Panamanian child
Stands at the dowager empress' side
And all that remain is the arms of the angels
And all that remain is the arms of the angels

When you've receded into loam
And they're picking at your bones
We'll come home

Quiet now, will we gather to conjure the rain down?
Will we now build a civilization below ground?
And I'll be crowned the community kick-it-around

And the Andalusian tribes
Setting the lay of Nebraska alight
'Til all that remain is the arms of the angels
'Til all that remain is the arms of the angels