You look like rain You're the hallelujah kind I'm the dust that spins and the gust of wind that's blowing by I'm a desert dry And in my thirsty eyes 'Cause I'm hell up here on the high wire You and your Sunday mornings Me and my Saturday nights You and

Why do they always send the poor? Everybody's going to the party, have a real good time Dancing in the desert, blowing up the sunshine Where the fuck are you? Why don't presidents fight the war? Kneeling roses disappearing into Moses' dry mouth Breaking

And the desert that´s dry In a country town Where the map was found When the wagons leave the city For the forest and further on Painted wagon of the morning Dusty roads where they've gone Sometimes travelin´ through the darkness At the summer comin´