On a cold December just-before-dawn
As the sun said "hello" to the sky
The mantis prayed while the lamellicorn tumbled and rolled in a threadbare tie

The Holland lops in the Callicoon glades indignantly thumped their feet
And hopped away when they cut their noses on the sharp-tipped blades
(Since the grass doesn't mind in the least)
The heat pad waiting in the chicken-wire hutch where the does from the Netherlands stay
But that dry alfalfa don't taste like much and we're tired of the Timothy hay
Hey

I touched her back, she was lying face down
The dew turned to frost in her eyes
Me and Sister Margaret on the Pentagon lawn with our wrists in a plastic tie
While the rats by the tracks on these winter days seeking shelter from the cold
Make a nest in the traps of our various ways that they can save their immortal souls

Oh no, timothy hay
Oh no, timothy hay
Oh no, timothy hay
Oh no, timothy hay
Oh no, timothy hay
Oh no, timothy hay
Please no more timothy hay
No more timothy hay
Oh no, no more timothy hay
Oh no, no more timothy hay
Oh no, no more timothy hay
No more timothy hay

On a cold December just-after-dusk
As the sun bid its cordial goodbyes
We get split to pieces like an appleseed husk to reveal the tree that's been hidden inside
We're a sapling caught in a tattered sirah at the seams from the shepherd's purse-belt
Broke the news to Mom: "We found a better Mom we call God"
(Which she took quite well)
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God You must be!