That Man [from the Flatland]
Gene Ween, Dean Ween
Biding my time, in a century gone
I'm a dunce, and you are queen
Wagons on wheels, can you dig into this?
I've got a fortuneteller willing to feel
A dusty blonde came prancing along
And she carried the key to my soul
Alas, an old man let her see who I am
And she went with the boy next door
Ooh, that man from the flatland
Took my woman
The heat, it can burn
And the heat, it can turn
A man into a red fire stem slowly, we search
For the wagon dust but the cow
Is screaming in pain so he came
Like a chill of shame
He smiled when the love tore my world down
Maybe the dust or her eternal lust
I'll never know about your flatland song
Ooh, that man on the flatland
Took my woman