When no one but the locals are around
you will see them as they gather at the
center of this town to pay homage to their
monolithic patriarch who stands so tall
he's seen from miles around
They worship for the gifts that he bestows
like the water that they drink and use to
wash their dusty cloths, and the way he
represents them to the passers-by who constantly go trickling down the road.
They will do as they are told.
The old folks know their time has past for usefulness and
things that don't last,
but they laugh themselves to sleep as they retire.
cause they remember when they built the frame
that holds that head that bears the name,
but the young ones shake their heads and call them liars.
They know that someday he will come around
and he'll realize he's far too good for their Midwestern town,
and he'll pack his things and mover to where the people are,
the southern coast where he'll become a star.