Call your boys now that the table’s set and shining

No one’s seen any of them in many days

Call your boys, they shot a buzzard off the Chrysler

And you still taste all that you swallowed before grace

And you’ll forgive even the time they burned the henhouse

And ran from you, ran to the hills with burning hands

Setting sun framed in the doorway right behind you

Several chores, surely some lessons left to tell

Setting sun, wolves in the hills and now before you

Sit your boys, each with his shining silverware

They’ll bury you under the wood beside the carport

Bury you, some neon stop along the way

Call your boys

Call your boys

Call ‘em

Radio fuzz on the fencepost by the pasture

Long ago, Liza and you would dance all day

Now you lay, buried the stern and sacred father

In sacred earth under a billboard in the rain

One last toast, here’s to the brave who went before us

Who died in vain, died in a movie for a dream

Call your boys

Call your boys

Call ‘em

Call ‘em

Call ‘em

Call your boys

Call your boys

Call your boys