Sara, spelled without an“ h "
was getting bored
On a peavey amp in 1 9 8 4
While Zak without a“ c " tried out
some new guitars
Playing Sara with no“ h 's"
favorite song
La da da…
La da da…
Zak and Sara,
(ooh…)
Often Sara would have spells
where she lost time
She saw the future
She heard voices from inside
The kind of voices she would soon learn
to deny
Because at home they got her smacked
La da da…
La da da…
Zak and Sara
Zak and Sara
Zak called his dad about layaway plans
Sara told the friendly salesman that
“You'll all die in your cars"
And “Why's it gotta be dark?"
And “You're all working in a submarine…
asshole"
Then she saw the lights she saw
a pale English face
Some strange machines repeating beats
and thumping bass
Visions of pills to put you
in a loving trance
That make it possible for all
white boys to dance
And when Zak finished
Sara's song
Sara clapped
La da da…
La da da…
Zak and Sara
Zak and Sara
Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah