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The country's breathing a sigh of stars |
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A bitch's baby from a buzzard's egg |
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American fortune seekers |
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West coast gold diggers, southern forgetters |
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There's something wrong |
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I'm panning for hope in a junk sick river |
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Trying to find the other two bits on my dollar |
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Down fault lines and phone lines |
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On every breath of every dawn |
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There's something wrong |
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The Prairie's bearing the vulture's child |
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The whippoorwill sails on a lonesome call |
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From the twilight to the horizon |
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There's something wrong |
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I'm looking for the jackalope in a burnt out car |
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In the dirt behind the daydream |
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Through a window painted on a blackened building |
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There's something wrong |
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And the click clack of the freight train goes |
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This and that, this and that |
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Till your ears are ringing |
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And your vision is clouded |
