Gotta be a better way, somewhere out there   Gotta be something else   Grandpa would stare out into thin air   Just trying to figure it out      The porch light flickers, moths and mosquitoes   Screen door speaks to the breeze   Me and my sister up, talking to Jesus   Hands folded, down on our knees      Dear papa, what would we do?   Living upon that moon, shoot at the stars   Build motels and bars and try to find someone to screw   Try to feel somewhere to muse      White noise and rabbit ears, tuned into all your fears   Every night it's the same   Daddy sits in his chair, mama wears rubber gloves   She got a dishpan drain      Grandpa smokes a cigarette   It's just for him not for kids   Watch from the windowsill as smoke dances upward   A ghost in the darkness, white out perfectly still      Dear papa, what would we do?   Living upon that moon, shoot at the stars   Build motels and bars and try to find someone to screw   Try to feel somewhere to muse      Out in the shed after midnights in bed, the real hard work begins   Grandpa tinkers with a rocket he built from a fifty four rambler with fins   He says, you and your sister can escape this misery   C'mon child climb on in      Dear papa, what would we do?   Living upon that moon, shoot at the stars   Build motels and bars and try to find someone to screw   Try to feel somewhere to muse