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tragically hip – at the hundredth meridian lyrics

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me debunk an american myth?
and take my life in my hands?
where the great plains begin at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian where the great plains begin

driving down a corduroy road
weeds standing shoulder high
ferris wheel is rusting off in the distance

at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
where the great plains begin

left alone to get gigantic
hard, huge and haunted
a generation so much dumber than it’s parents
came crashing through the window

a raven strains along the line of the road
carrying a muddy, old skull
the wires show their approval
off down the distance

at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
where the great plains begin

i remember, i remember buffalo
and i remember hengelo
it would seem to me
i remember every single f-cking thing i know

if i die of vanity, promise me, promise me
that if they bury me some place i don’t want to be
that you’ll dig me up and transport me
unceremoniously away from the swollen city breeze

garbage bag trees, whispers of disease
and acts of enormity
and lower me slowly, sadly, and properly
get ry cooder to sing my eulogy

where the great plains begin
at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
where the great plains begin

driving down a corduroy road
weeds standing shoulder high
ferris wheel is rusting off in the distance

at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
where the great plains begin

left alone to get gigantic
hard, huge, and haunted
a generation so much dumber than it’s parents
came crashing through the window

a raven strains along the line of the road
carrying a muddy, old skull
the wires show their approval
off down the distance

where the great plains begin
at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
where the great plains begin

i remember, i remember buffalo
and i remember hengelo
it would seem to me
i remember every single f-cking thing i know

if i die of vanity, promise me, promise me
that if they bury me some place i don’t want to be
that you’ll dig me up and transport me
unceremoniously away from the swollen city breeze

garbage bag trees, whispers of disease
and acts of enormity
and lower me slowly, sadly, and properly
get ry cooder to sing my eulogy

at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
at the hundredth meridian
where the great plains begin



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