Way far out west
Away from the land I love the best
Is a little two horse town
That's sure to raise a frown
Where the feed lot is a restaurant
The only horses are red porches
The people are all medicated
And the antique shop is dedicated
To the cause of Tumalo
And the system of a low

Once you've been driven round the Bend
You'll have no mind left to mend
The aggression is endemic
The sadness a pandemic
Round and round the roundabout
One way round the block
Their heads are in the clouds
Their watch has all but stopped
Before they return to Tumalo
And the system of a low

The Taco Truck is run by German
Bodybuilders until noon
And later in the night
They dance around the tomb
Of a Paiute named Riley
And his three legged spotted dog
They take all their clothes off
And slaughter a muddied hog
It's the witching hour in Tumalo
And the system of a low

Fairy lights and salsa nights
The town is oh so proud
Of their dedication to correctness
And nothing's not allowed
Beneath their tourist sheen
There beats a collective heart
Blackened hostile and mean
It's the way of Tumalo
And the system of a low.

Old Riley is a-twisting and a-turning
In his grave
Watching over Tumalo
And the nightmare they have made
One day when his bones 
Are raised up from the dust
He'll rattle in to town
To tell them that they must
Burn down Tumalo
And the system of a low.

The town runs like clockwork
Every dusk till dawn
The pagans stop and stare
And bow down to a fawn
Appropriating a culture
They all sought to destroy
Selling wampum beads
And dream catchers as a toy
They are lost in Tumalo
And it's system of a low.

So if you find yourself pushed out to the West
You had better don your hard hat
And wear your iron vest,
The locals are all ornery
The landscape is severe,
It is a town where the hunger
Is only hidden by the fear
Of the system of a low
In the town of Tumalo.

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