Score From Augusta - Beulah

And armies wait in their secret places

That gently twist around your bed

The South will be spared

Bullets flying fast from her eyes

With Confederate fire

Ah, ah

We etch our names in candles, they’re heart-shaped and they flicker inside our

chests (in our chests)

And ghosts of our brethren speak tales which are hidden, much like ours (much

like ours)

Of brothers fighting, of holy fields

Where their new loves come and their old loves go

And they just wilt

Like Spanish moss with dew in their eyes

Tears for our Lord

And for the ones he spares

When they’ve lost their way it’s o-o-off with their heads

And the whores he loves

And the lepers he claims that he can cure

Can not compete

With those humid summer days that we would share