Our teeth ain't shiny like diamonds or gold We're as thin as piss on a hot rock In the sun I think we'd be happier in Arizona I speak a little Spanish and like the weather there In the sun When Crow shot Vida in the entryway She stumbled out without a whimper The pouring blood went like water all down her face She plugged up the wound with her finger I dreamed I was a catfish on the Gasconade You wrote your name on the elastic behind the brim In the sun Ain't gonna beg for you to stay Or speak it softly to you Go on and plan our bloody holiday in the sun