[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