G  C           G            C 
Sundown in the Paris of the prairies 
Wheat kings have all their treasures buried 
And all you hear are the rusty breezes 
Pushing around the weather vane Jesus 
 
In his Zippo lighter, he sees the killer's face 
Maybe it's someone standing in the killer's place 
Twenty years for nothing, well that's nothing new 
besides, no one's interested in something you didn't do 
 
D               G          C   G  C 
Wheat kings and pretty things 
let's just see what the morning brings 
 
There's a dream he dreams where the high school is dead and stark 
It's a museum and we're all locked up in it after dark 
Where the walls are lined all yellow, grey and sinister 
Hung with pictures of our parent's prime ministers 
 
Wheat kings and pretty things 
wait and see what tomorrow brings 
 
Late-breaking story on the CBC 
A nation whispers, "we always knew that he'd go free" 
They add, "you can't be fond of living in the past 
cause if you are then there's no way that you're gonna last." 
 
Wheat kings and pretty things 
let's just see what tomorrow brings 
 
D               C 
Wheat kings and pretty things 
              C            D  C  D (repeat)  end on G 
that's what tomorrow brings