[Verse 1]
Frustrated and farmer-tanned
We drove through a not-so-promised land
With an eighteen-hour plan
To get the hell away from Houston
And push the tables against the wall
With our hopes as high as Brenham’s small

[Verse 2]
Pulling strings
Our hearts are dangling by a thread
Around the neck of this college town
But I can’t say there’s something better
Then when an idea comes together
For the sake of saving the sanity of a band

[Verse 3]
‘Cause we can’t catch a break
Or sit up straight
But we’re doing the best we can
Team work’s taken over
Over your shoulder
And the shortest shorts ever seen on a man