Mary watches over the southwestern yellow line, southwestern yellow line.
She sees the slapping foul-mouthed fools,
Spinning stainless steel,
beneath expensive cars, obsessed with being beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

She sees the good old women and men,
who came far to be here,
not treated as the tribe’s wise,
but as ready-made dinners and doormats,
and doormats, and doormats.

The beautiful little kids,
playing in any neighborhood.
Any fence post becomes a jail
and pile of leaves becomes a nest.
This is nothing like my old neighborhood,

But Mary loves us for the lawn ornaments
that make her up:
faded plastic tributes to her and her son…

Paper trash floats like angels
around the statues of Mary.
It doesn’t make much sense,
but it feels alright,
feels alright,

But Mary loves us for the lawn ornaments
that make her up:
faded plastic tributes to her and her son…

Southwestern Yellow Line

Music by Erika Lloyd & Brad Whiteley
Lyrics by Erika Lloyd

Vocals, Trumpet: Erika Lloyd
Piano, Synth: Brad Whiteley
Drums: Kenneth Salters
Bass: Peter Maness

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