The year of the crow, the year of our disgrace
I am tucked up here in the shadow of the cross
With my ear muffs, with my quilt and palliase
The marlboro man
This tower was raised in the year blank-blank
The year of the crow, the year of our disgrace
I am tucked up here in the shadow of the cross
With my ear muffs, with my quilt and palliase
Kneeling up but looking down
Like a man at prayer
My friend the marlboro man
The marlboro man
