Oh, my beloved tania   How I long to see your face   Photographed in fifteen second intervals   In a bank in san leandro   A polaroid of you, cinque   With a seven-headed dragon   In a house in daly city   Don't be sad, my beloved tania   They say your father never liked stephen weed anyway   Hired a detective   To follow him around   Oh, my beloved revolutionary sweetheart   I can see your newsprint face turn yellow in the gutter   It makes me sad   How I long for the days when you came to liberate us from boredom   From driving around from five to seven in the evening   My beloved tania,   We carry your gun deep within our hearts   For no better reason than our lives have no meaning   And we want to be on television