verse 1 Greek gods are communing beneath the doric arch And they talk how small we humans are They drink to agamemnon they toast his pyhrric march And wait for the sacrifices Shepherds herd in real time sheep are barley-grazing on a field of green Vines ripen to find troy will prevail Trojan curfews prevail verse 2 So we got smashed on ios down around some doric arch And the trashed blonde scandi mistook me for a swede Her slurred medieval accent as like a puddle at my feet You could see chopped tobacco in her teeth Flaccid ways converging on a rock hard strip of concrete near a field of green we sign deutschmarks are fine aren't you too pale Does it hurt you? So pale Trojan curfews prevail