Out of the wringer into the dryer,
Spins the clothes higher, squeezing out static and shocks,
Little stockings tumbling 'round together,
Couldn't cling forever; now I'm missing one of my socks.
Lord, where do they go?
Lord, where do they go?
One pile waits with their god in a box, the other pile nervously mocks heaven,
Misfits lost in the dryer take heart; maybe there's a place up in sock heaven.
Out of the wringer into the dryer,
Couldn't just retire, had to try tempting the fates,
One little band spinning 'round together,
Couldn't cling forever; God, I think I'm losing my mates,
Seven good years, followed by a feeling I'd hit the glass ceiling,
Maybe I'd best disappear,
Pick any market, pick a straitjacket,
If you can't act it: misfit you don't belong here.
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
One pile waits with their god in a box, the other pile nervously mocks heaven,
Misfits lost in the dryer take heart; maybe there's a place up in sock heaven,
Didn't want a platform to build a new church, didn't want a mansion in rock heaven,
Didn't want more than to be understood; maybe there's a place up in sock heaven.
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
Lord, where do we go?
We're gathered here to ask the Lord's blessing...maybe not his blessing...maybe we're not asking at all,
Out of the box with every good intention,
Did you fail to mention this time we were destined to crawl?
And every day that we died just a little more I was sure you were sovereignly watching us dangle,
I don't get it now, but I'll get it when, in sock heaven, I see it all from your angle.
One pile waits with their god in a box, the other pile nervously mocks heaven,
Misfits lost in the dryer take heart; maybe there's a place up in sock heaven,
Didn't want a platform to build a new church, didn't want a mansion in rock heaven,
Didn't want more than to be understood; maybe there's a place up in sock heaven,
One pile waits with their god in a box, the other pile nervously mocks heaven,
Misfits lost in the dryer take heart, God's got his saints up in sock heaven,
(fade)
