Wings (acoustic)

At night we crossed the border following a Black robe

To the edge of the reservation, to Cataldo Mission

Where the saints and all the martyrs look down on dying converts

What makes the water holy, she says, is that that it's the closest thing to rain

I stole the mule from Anthony

I helped Anne up upon it and we rode to Coeur d'Alene, past Harrison and Wallace

They were blasting out the tunnels, making way for the light of learning

When Jesus comes a'calling, she said, he's coming round the mountain on a train

Yeah

Well, it's my home

Last night I dreamt that I grew wings

I found a place where they could hear me when I sing

We floated on to Hanford in a lumber boat up river

Past the fisheries and the mill towns like a stretch of future graveyards

She was driven to distraction

Said I wonder what will happen when they find out they're mistaken

The land is too changed to ever change

We waded through the marketplace

Someone's ship had come in

There was silver and begonias

Dynamite and cattle

There were hearts as big as apples and apples in the shape of Mary's heart

I said, inside this gilded cage a songbird always looks so plain

Yeah

Well, it's my home

Last night I dreamt that I grew wings

I found a place where they could hear me when I sing

And so they came with cameras, breaking through the morning mist

Press and businessmen, tycoons, Episcopal philanthropists

Lost in their appraisal of the body of a woman

But all we saw were lowlands - clouds clung to mountains without strings

At last we saw some people

At last we saw some people

At last we saw some people huddled up against

Rain that was descending like railroad spikes and hammers

They were headed for the border

Walking and then running and then they were gone into the fog

But Anne said underneath their jackets she saw wings