(McNabb) Lo, the poor 
Indian whose poor untutored mind 
Clothes him in front, but leaves him bare behind 
Maybe in another year the simple life we lead 
Could become more comfortable, or even change completely 
Evangeline, your streets were washed away 
You'll never vent your anger, 
We'll await with baited breath 
For something better than we have 
Shallow dreams undone 
Fruitless and unsung 
No challenge towers so steep 
Seven horses deep 
A festival came to my town and quickly went away 
Faith contains the seed of lowly tragedy they say. 
One step forward, two steps back 
The bango jangles in the subway 
Some await with bated breath 
For something better than they have 
Shallow dreams undone 
Fruitless and unsung 
No challenge towers so steep 
Seven horses deep