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Parking Lots

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April 5th North East Santa Fe
The cactus in the backyard built our dreams out of clay
The phonebook on the counter shouldn't know our last names
The radio voices are what taught us to pray
But all hail the holy interstate
To which I pray

(Holy, holy, holy, holy, holy
The world is holy, the soul is holy, the skin is holy)

No name drifters teaching me about sand
You talk, you pray, you sleep, you drink, you dance on command
Forgot to say my goodbyes - Left for the promised land

You make me feel like I'm riding a horse on the Salinas Valley
With nothing to wear now Im 
I'm just a cowboy who
Used to have hair and I'm sick of the desert 
I'm sick of the air

Drinking in death valley there's no way to survive
Making meals for birds of prey like Sal Paradise
I'll make like david brubeck drink some wine and take five
I was dancing with the greyhound people when you arrived
But i'd rather keep dreaming of snakes
And be eaten alive

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