never trust a heart that is so bent it can’t break

Now the sky is a torn up denim and the clouds are just splattered paint
It’s a room I’m renovating, it’s a name I got to change
If I get out of California I’m going back to my home state
To tell them all that I made a mistake

Because everything, it must belong somewhere
Soundstage in California, televisions in Times Square..
Because everything, it must belong somewhere
They locked the devil in the basement, threw God up into the air
Everything, it must belong somewhere
And you know it's true, I wish you'd leave me here
You know it's true, why don't you leave me here?


Got a cricket for a conscience
Always looks the other way
A cocaine soul starts seeming like
An empty cabaret
Hey, where have all the dancers gone?
Now the music doesn't play
Tried to listen to the river
But you couldn't shut your mouth
Better take a little time to level out
I never thought of running
My feet just led the way


Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe
There's people always dying trying to keep them alive
There are bodies decomposing in containers tonight
In an abandoned building where
A squatter's made a mural of a Mexican girl
With fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl
She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world
Four winds blowing through her hair
he Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qur'an is mute
If you burned them all together you'd be close to the truth still
They're poring over Sanskrit under Ivy League moons
While shadows lengthen in the sun
Cast on a school of meditation built to soften the times
And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
It's knocking over fences, crossing property lines
Four winds cry until it comes
And it's the sum of man
Slouching towards Bethlehem
A heart just can't contain all of that empty space
It breaks, it breaks, it breaks
Well, I went back to my rented Cadillac and company jet
Like a newly orphaned refugee, retracing my steps
All the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead
They said, "You'd better look alive"
And I was off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps
In the black hills, the bad lands, the calloused east
I buried my ballast, I made my peace
Heard four winds leveling the pines