In heaven will the women of the sun still build our televisions
And will their phantom husbands still mow our golden lawns?
Will the blood of Babylon still fertilize our bad decisions
And will angels of the islands babysit our cherub spawn?
In Eden will the heathens like my sibling ever get let in
Will they turn paradise into a hard-knock afterlife?
Will the fallen in Valhalla cut ambrosia with Robitussin
Or if there's no depression will our souls be free from strife?
In the world to come will we be judged for what we've done
To our loved ones, and our livers, and all three of our city's rivers?
If the Pantheon's next session decides the bats taught us a lesson
I hope St. Peter or Justitia sees fit to forgive us, yeah
It's all bath salts and Twilight in the Triangle tonight
I'm glad you drove out yesterday and I'm glad I chose to stay
There's not much point in screaming since the bats can hear the shouts
Ted, I halfway love you, and I hope you make it out, yeah
My father was a miner in Eastern Pennsylvania
And when his shift was over you could see his tonsils glow
When my mother had a shiner, and the street wine sparked her mania
She'd say we were an evil that he brought from down below
Oh those second gen reactors relied on Carbon County
And the families of the valley, we all needed the wage
Now that wind will power our factories, we've given up on counting
How little we yielded from the last atomic age
But when my brother got in trouble or when I'd be unfaithful
To you, or the man before, or the boy who was my first one
I'd think that in my youth, my mother had been truthful
The likes of us were never meant to walk above the surface, no
When at last things get better, and a coroner finds this letter
I know you might feel worse that I never told you this in person
I pray the bats don't take it, sorry the writing's shaky
Ted I halfway love you, I really hope you make it, yeah
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