Wheat Kings The Tragically Hip

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[Verse 1]
Sundown in the Paris of the prairies
Wheat kings have all treasures buried
And all you hear are the rusty breezes
Pushing around the weathervane Jesus

[Verse 2]
In his Zippo lighter he sees the killer's face
Maybe it's someone standing in a killer's place
Twenty years for nothing, well, that's nothing new
Besides, no one's interested in something you didn't do

[Chorus]
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

[Verse 3]
There's a dream he dreams where the high school's dead and stark
It's a museum and we're all locked up in it after dark
Where the walls are lined all yellow, grey and sinister
Hung with pictures of our parents' prime ministers

[Chorus]
Wheat kings and pretty things
Wait and see what tomorrow brings