| Song | Mason City |
| Artist | The Fiery Furnaces |
| Album | Blueberry Boat |
| 作曲 : Friedberger | |
| Came a card marked Mason City | |
| From my forwarder | |
| Shut the door, don't let my dad see | |
| Read aloud, Dear sir | |
| Understanding you account an upright gentlemen | |
| Aetna Life agreed and lent | |
| By the way, my fee is two point six percent | |
| Write again the Riceville widow | |
| S-A-S-E | |
| I would guess they'll be turned out though | |
| I'll still make my plea | |
| If the Dunlay heirs cannot be seen to care | |
| Then the Banker's Trust will surely think it fair | |
| To not give extensions, as they musn't dare | |
| Write Des Moines on several matters | |
| And I near anoint | |
| Ladle thick the pleasant flatters | |
| And then comes the point | |
| Mr. Nelson wouldn't like to hear it said | |
| As he's too proud, so I do it in his stead | |
| He shall need an extension, so it read | |
| Take the Oregon Short Line to Salt Lake | |
| Take the Pere Marquette, take the Michigan Central | |
| To West Madison for Christ's sake | |
| Forgemen, Molders, Blacksmiths, Boilermakers | |
| None on the make | |
| Up for shade on Crumb Hill | |
| Get something to make my hands still | |
| But now, wait | |
| How are you my nabs | |
| Little tender footed crabs | |
| Meet my knuckle duster | |
| You geeched that gazoon's gow | |
| Tried to break into the bow | |
| Go wipe your nose | |
| I'm just hanging out with some noler knockums | |
| Just passing time waiting till my stack comes | |
| Prussian who got jackered | |
| My snapper till your knockered | |
| Get on the snam | |
| The chivman wants your chip | |
| Better dummy up then go dip | |
| You're out of turn | |
| I learned that the lowest form of life is the buffer nabber | |
| Even worse than the dicer stabber |
| zuò qǔ : Friedberger | |
| Came a card marked Mason City | |
| From my forwarder | |
| Shut the door, don' t let my dad see | |
| Read aloud, Dear sir | |
| Understanding you account an upright gentlemen | |
| Aetna Life agreed and lent | |
| By the way, my fee is two point six percent | |
| Write again the Riceville widow | |
| SASE | |
| I would guess they' ll be turned out though | |
| I' ll still make my plea | |
| If the Dunlay heirs cannot be seen to care | |
| Then the Banker' s Trust will surely think it fair | |
| To not give extensions, as they musn' t dare | |
| Write Des Moines on several matters | |
| And I near anoint | |
| Ladle thick the pleasant flatters | |
| And then comes the point | |
| Mr. Nelson wouldn' t like to hear it said | |
| As he' s too proud, so I do it in his stead | |
| He shall need an extension, so it read | |
| Take the Oregon Short Line to Salt Lake | |
| Take the Pere Marquette, take the Michigan Central | |
| To West Madison for Christ' s sake | |
| Forgemen, Molders, Blacksmiths, Boilermakers | |
| None on the make | |
| Up for shade on Crumb Hill | |
| Get something to make my hands still | |
| But now, wait | |
| How are you my nabs | |
| Little tender footed crabs | |
| Meet my knuckle duster | |
| You geeched that gazoon' s gow | |
| Tried to break into the bow | |
| Go wipe your nose | |
| I' m just hanging out with some noler knockums | |
| Just passing time waiting till my stack comes | |
| Prussian who got jackered | |
| My snapper till your knockered | |
| Get on the snam | |
| The chivman wants your chip | |
| Better dummy up then go dip | |
| You' re out of turn | |
| I learned that the lowest form of life is the buffer nabber | |
| Even worse than the dicer stabber |