[Verse 1] We were never fans of stock-car races Though mesmerized by the roaring of those cars Out in the dark the sound echoed off our skin As we took to rooftop those engines on the wind
[Chorus] Where we sang the songs of our fathers Shah-la-la, ooh-la-la-la And all the prayers of our mothers Dutiful daughters, dutiful sons Shah-la-la goes the rattle and hum From the hearth of a midwestern home Shah-la-la: that's the sound of immortal Americans
[Verse 2] Children turn the radio on Fists hit the air praising rock and roll gods From the soil they are formed, born to grow corn and cut stone They trade off the verses and they sing twin in the choruses Babes of the Bible Belt Maybe low-hanging fruit in the forest
[Chorus] But they sang the songs of our fathers Shah-la-la, ooh-la-la-la And all the prayers of their mothers Dutiful daughters, dutiful sons Shah-la-la rose the rattle and hum From the hearth of a midwestern home Shah-la-la: that's the sound of immortal Americans
[Verse 3] My friends turned the radio off Those holy hymns were no longer ours
[Chorus] Though we sang the songs of our fathers Shah-la-la, ooh-la-la-la And all the prayers of our mothers Dutiful daughters, dutiful sons Shah-la-la goes the rattle and hum From the hearth of a midwestern home Shah-la-la: that's the sound of immortal Americans Immortal Americans