Lyrics:

She was part of an inner circle--
Daughters of the Motherland.
Like a ship lit up at sea,
with scars where its talons used to be.(Repeat line twice)

I was a slow learner, I moved in flourishes.
I was a late-bloomer, I moved in flourishes.
Last man on the scene--
Fresh face on a dying scene,
One-hundredth of a wet, black bough.(Repeat line twice)

I was Clytemnestra on a good day,
Dispensing wisdom to the uninitiated.
The initiates brought out in tumbrils,
Shed out by the dawn.(Repeat line twice)

Like a woman, I was kept as the wealthy
American underground wept at the sight of Rhodes Island sinking into the sea.

And the sky still reigned supreme over the land as the music lovers
sat cross-legged in the sand, and in time, and in Space,
And, in other words, in a band who, much like churchgoers, fuck themselves... up.(Repeat verse once)

(Minor mumbling.)