They come by the droves to the desert
From another desert far away
These Texans, so anxious to climb
Holy mountains, holy tels
Tracing the footsteps of a man
Your people revile
They pay well, very well
They lap up the stories eagerly
Even a little bit of their religion
Thrown in like strong spice
Elicits rapture, hallelujiah
But at every turn from every group
The question eventually comes
What must we do to see you saved?
What do we have to do to send you
Home with a brand new religion?
If you take their money
You must take their wine, their bread

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