| Moon shining down through the palms
|
| Shadows moving on the sand
|
| Somebody whispering the twenty-third psalm
|
| Dusty rifle in his trembling hands
|
| Somebody trying just to stay alive
|
| He got promises to keep
|
| Over the ocean in America
|
| Far away and fast asleep
|
| Silent stars blinking in the blackness of an endless sky
|
| Cold silver satellites, ghostly caravans passing by
|
| Galaxies unfolding, new worlds being born
|
| Pilgrims and prodigals creeping toward the dawn
|
| And it’s a long road out of Eden
|
| Music blasting from an SUV
|
| On a bright and sunny day
|
| Rolling down the interstate
|
| In the good old USA
|
| Having lunch at the petroleum club
|
| Smoking fine cigars and swapping lives
|
| He said, «Give me another slice of that barbecued brisket!»
|
| «Give me another piece of that pecan pie!»
|
| Freeways flickering, cell phones chiming a tune
|
| We’re riding to utopia, road map says we’ll be arriving soon
|
| Captains of the old order clinging to the reins
|
| Assuring us these aches inside are only growing pains
|
| But it’s a long road out of Eden
|
| Back home I was so certain
|
| The path was very clear
|
| But now I have to wonder
|
| What are we doing here?
|
| I’m not counting on tomorrow
|
| And I can’t tell wrong from right
|
| But I’d give anything to be there in your arms tonight
|
| Weaving down the American highway
|
| Through the litter and the wreckage and the cultural junk
|
| Bloated with entitlement, loaded on propaganda
|
| And now we’re driving dazed and drunk
|
| Been down the road to Damascus
|
| The road to Mandalay
|
| Met the ghost of Caesar on the Appian way
|
| He said, «It's hard to stop this binging, once you get a taste»
|
| «But the road to empire is a bloody stupid waste»
|
| Behold the bitten apple, the power of the tools
|
| But all the knowledge in the world is of no use to fools
|
| And it’s a long road out of Eden |