 Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe
There's people always dying trying to keep them alive
His body's decomposing in containers tonight
In an abandoned building where
A squatter's made a mural of a Mexican girl
With fifteen cans of spray paint and a chemical swirl
She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world
Four winds blowing through her hair
But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon
She just can't sustain the pressure where it's placed
She caves, she caves...
The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qu'ran's mute
If you burn them all together you get close to the truth still
They are pouring over sanskrit on the ivy league moons
While shadows lengthen the sun
Cast off the schools of meditation built to soften the times
And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
It's knocking over fences, crossing property lines
Four winds, cry until it comes
And it's the son of man
Slouching towards Bethlehem
A heart just can't contain all of that empty space
It breaks, it breaks, it breaks
Well, I went back to my rented Cadillac and company jet
Like a newly orphaned refugee, retracing my steps
All the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead
They said, "You'd better look alive"
And I was off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps
In the black hills, the bad lands, the calloused east
I buried my ballast, I made my peace
With four winds, levelling the pines
But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon
She just can't compete with all that outer space
She breaks, she breaks, she caves, she caves
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Thanks to Vanity Fair for these lyrics.
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