I’ve seen your sad towns,
Too barren for ghosts
Empty silos on state highways
Five o’clock light, signposts
I’ve seen your old tracks
Like scars on your hands
Giving nothing to no one
Dried vines, iron brands
For dollar bills our great green hills
Sink down into wasteland
And when they’re gone they leave you alone
To hide your face in the sand
I’ve seen your front porches
Sour, peeling paint
Fences grown pointless,
Graffiti, fallen, faint
I’ve seen your junkyards
Of tractors and barbed wire
Pantry shelves slanting sideways
Whistle blows, no buyer
For dollar bills our great green hills
Sink down into wasteland
And when they’re gone they leave you alone
To hide your face in the sand
To hide your face in the sand

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