Fortune The New Pornographers

There's a straight line between suburbia and graveyards
And as we wander zigzag, short mysteries on our side
Then she reads them to me as we lunch on Sunday
Picnic baskets on the grave of the Lola Montez

Bingo games and black lights, apocalyptic walking
Apologies accepted, spurred by a shared design
Something fled on Henry, blazing blue down Cobb Street
We surround it, singing, "Here, king, accept your reign!"

I was the lucky one, too, all the same
(I was the lucky one all the same)
In the summer of my ball of flame
(In the summer of my ball of flame)
I had to rock myself in its arms, forgiven in the face of fortune

And with the lucky one, too, it broke apart
(And with the lucky one broke apart!)
Into pieces that were sold as art
(Into pieces that were sold as art!)
I had to rock myself in some famous places to replace my fortune
To replace my fortune
To replace my fortune

A dance we turn on rest here, left like breadcrumbs for you
Dropped from these skyscrapers, pieces from knots and loaves
Apocryphal and shining come the new crop circles
Our avenging angels singing in a secret code