400,000 ants on a shaky leaf
And a man the size of the moon blowing as hard as he can
Sooner or later, those ants are gonna fly
They're gonna fly, they're gonna fly whether they got wings or not
They're gonna soar to the edge of the world as they sing,
"Hey-oh, won't somebody save us?!"
Then the Lord will swoop down you see, He's got His own wings
They're made of gold and magic and other fancy things
And they are powered by the faith of the converted
Well, He'll pick up those ants in the palm of his hand
Set 'em right back down on some nice stable land
Right in the middle, right smack dab in the middle of Polk County
Folks everywhere 'round the city
Began to move their a**es
Yeah, God decided it was time for them to dance
Well, he pointed His finger, said, "Dance, poor man, dance!
You're gonna do what I say!"
And on the eighth day, the Lord said, "Let Polk County Shake."