Story Behind the Song
Dedicated to Rachel Corrie.
Lyrics
skiing right down your head,
like a dose of Grateful Dead,
smokes a pair of k2 planks,
from the old mid-ninties ranks,
...shaped-curving down your mind,
from a necklaced-tree behind,
plows a little tiny girl,
40 mile-per-hour squirrel,
but you know she'll be a burnin',
when she's no longer learnin',
she'll be a local pioneer,
...and that day she will steer,
society with a passion,
with a heart that's built for action,
and pass the cold lemonade,
at the price that comes well-paid,
for all of that profiteering,
all that social engineering,
that breaks her tiny heart,
and tears her tiny world apart,
that wears the proud sash
of manly-made, cold, cash
and cold lemonade,
at the price that comes well-paid
of escapade and Fox and trot,
and shiny folks who talk a lot,
and that cold lemonade,
at the price that comes well-paid,
to suck on when you're sweaty,
during parades, throwin' confetti,
but carving down the hill,
speeds that tiny little girl,
doing circles 'round our mind,
'n all the silly things we'll find,
in her tiny little world,
where her tiny flag's unfurled,
just fer a dirty quick dime,
another wonderful time,
incorporation can endure,
any truth, that's fer sure
and no matter, nor when,
that it is we might have been,
yeah, she'll still learn to ski,
and she'll still break your key,
but only in one sample,
in her beautiful example,
of love and respect,
and the sweat of preparation,
"To what extent (truth,
can) endure incorporation"
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