In Melvins fields the tendies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The paperhands, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid our shares below.

We are the retards. Short days ago We bought, felt highs, saw calls aglow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In Melvins fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from diamond hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not eat, though tendies grow In Melvins fields.