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