Well I was born of the Earth
With my hands to the sky.
And I'll die in the dirt
On the fourth of July.
And my body will burst
Into millions of sparks.
And I'll hang like a ghost
In the trailer park until I'm gone.
And I can hear the wind blow.
It sounds like angels and babies breath.
So leave some dirt in my hands
Lay my body in the street.
And I'll be searching out God
To lay my stones at her feet.
And when the winds lay waste
To the fields and the stars
I'll be spinning my home
In the back of your car
Until it's done.
And I can hear the wind blow.
It sounds like angels and babies breath.
And I can see my mother's praying hands.
Like petals in the wind
Sweeping across my yard.
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