Give a quick call to the Big Man Said he doesn't mind you don't keep up anymore Eye rolls from the bar back when you ask– Heavy hand on the fifth pour Join the walking dead downtown Pay the kids for whatever they're selling A small fortune for a fortune teller For the things you know that there's no way of telling When you call in ahead on the weekends There's no excuse I won't be there! There's a man preaching in the backstreet It took an hour, but he sold me Sold my soul for a bumper-sticker $1.50 theology Circle drive around Sebring, A stick fish on a key ring Keep the ways of the kingdom! Look alive until you start to see things When you dance, you dance in your sequins! There's no excuse I won't be there And in the end, you will say that you see things! There's no excuse I won't be there And every day, I feel my body readjust in a bad way ("But I am equally scared just as often!") In a year, you're declared a prisoner of the state And I will be offered peace of mind That it's your own fault But I know I'll still think it's no one's fault I'm not gonna lie And I will call your home home I will call your home home