Like it was our world to win
Then they moved the plant down Ojada
Time to bite you tongue again
I've seen the fabled city.
Its streets are paved with gold.
But an iron fence runs 'round it
and its iron gate is closed.
But something else passed behind his eyes.
Now he's downtown on his knees,
washin' floors for somebody
And he's quietly biting his toungue
I met and angel sad and old.
She lived in the alley behind the market
in the shadows maybe hidden from the Lord.
that sounded more like a prayer
A wish that her dead mother and father
couldn't look down and see her there.
there sit one hundred swallows.
And I suspect that if one flew,
then ninety nine would follow