The year of the crow, the year of our disgrace I am tucked up here in the shadow of the cross With my ear muffs, with my quilt and palliase The marlboro man This tower was raised in the year blank-blank The year of the crow, the year of our disgrace I am tucked up here in the shadow of the cross With my ear muffs, with my quilt and palliase Kneeling up but looking down Like a man at prayer My friend the marlboro man The marlboro man