It's raining cats and dogs
At a dinner outside of
Wichita
Out of money out of breath
I'm out here in the great Midwest
It ain't
like you'll walk through that door
A thousand miles form Baltimore
But if you did you'd
see a man
He's drowning in the Promised Land
And all this time I've just been
drifting
And I ain't got nothing left
I've been bent and I've been twisted
Into this
state of common sense
My back is up against the wall
Hopin' that you'll take this
call
Collect from Wichita
I left Dunston Road in a cloud of dust
Screaming
black and furious
With slivers in my hand and feet
From pieces of our shattered dreams
