The volunteers, they come for your prayers   And some souvenirs   With ivory skin and boycott lessons   Year after year      Well I'm tracing your face up in the space   Of the bottom bunk, oh Cordova   Where I cried and I cried   I knew I was trading on things that I didn't have   The things that I didn't have      Now you come to me   With revolution's infidelity   With blacklisted friends and Tupperware kin   And your big history      Well I'm tracing your face up in the space   Of the bottom bunk, oh Cordova   Where I cried and I cried   I knew I was trading on things that I didn't have   The things that I didn't have      I memorize the lullabies of dwindling lives   The lay of the land, the touch of each hand   We lose by and by      I'm tracing your face up in the space   Of the bottom bunk, oh Cordova   Where I cried and I cried   I knew I was trading on things that I didn't have   The things that I didn't have