7 am on Circle Street,
Sprinklers ring out a symphony,
All the kings and pawns off to work for their perfect lawns.
But me, Iʼm still dreaminʼ of Sandy,
Maybe Iʼll spin out to her side of town,
Or maybe bum a ride with Bunny when his parents arenʼt around.

Try in vein you may,
You know we are the same,
And when you call my name:

Rebels we become,
In tracks where lions run,
Red beneath the raging sun,
Like wild fires we burn relentlessly.

The Mexicanos stare us down,
Dogs are barking on Sandyʼs side of town,
I keep it cool all the way to her front porch.
Her brother growls behind a hangover,
And I can smell her hair already yeah,
The summer started when our feet crossed the open door.

We are the singers of the songs,
The weakest are the strong,
Nothing is right, but nothing's wrong.

Heroes we become,
In tracks where lions run,
Red beneath the raging sun,
Like wild fires we burn relentlessly.

Our faith is small but it it strong,
Enough to carry on,
Though we are poor we shall not want.

Rebels we become,
In tracks where young lions run,
Red beneath the raging sun,
Like wild fires we burn.
Heroes we become,
Where saints and sinners are one,
Red beneath the raging sun,
Like sons of earth we yearn we yearn.
Like kings of men we learn we learn.
Like wild fires we burn relentlessly.