Wheat kings and pretty things Sundown in the Paris of the prairies Wheat kings have all their treasures buried And all you hear are the rusty breezes Pushing around the weather vane Jesus In his Zippo lighter, he sees the killer's face Maybe it's someone

Wheat kings and pretty things Sundown in the Paris of the prairies Wheat kings have all their treasures buried And all you hear are the rusty breezes Pushing around the weather vane Jesus In his Zippo lighter, he sees the killer's face Maybe it's someone