The volunteers come for your prayers And some souvenirs, With ivory skin and boycott lessons Year after year. [Chorus] Well I'm tracing your face up in the space of the bottom bunk, Oh Cordova. Where I cried and I cried, I knew I was trading on things that I didn't have, The things that I didn't have. Now you come to me With revolution's infidelity, With blacklisted friends and Tupperware kin, And your big history. [Chorus] I memorize the lullabies Of dwindling lives. The lay of the land, the touch of each hand We lose by and by. [Chorus]