Pray for the foothills,
Home to the drone of power lines and rock doves
Mountains grey as velvet,
Field for dots of yucca, white and jacarandas
Facing the sky, as the day burns away, is a desert in mourning
Sheltering the dead stones, cradle of the lost bones
Home of eternal comings and goings
Blinking away the sunrise
Listening to the wind blow
Angels with dirty faces face another day in limbo
Beckoning fire from Heaven when everything seems so stone-cold
Beating the drums of change
Another day in limbo
Pray for the foothills, goatherds, and windmills, and satellite dishes
Petroglyph talkers meet iron-willed walkers, who grant them no wishes
Shaking a fist at the air seems to bring on a blackening sky
In the crackling of embers,
Old men remember walking in beauty, in the dawns of their lives
Blinking away the sunrise
Listening to the wind blow
Angels with dirty faces face another day in limbo
Beckoning fire from Heaven when everything seems so stone-cold
Beating the drums of change
Another day in limbo
Pray for the foothills
Iron horse with four wheels bucks a drunken rider
Pawns of the porn kings,
Corn-silk of heartstrings, tattered and blighted
They sing in the sand for the son
Of the land, who sought fire in water
Faith like a kernel, rising up in thermals
Hope springs eternal once in awhile
Blinking away the sunrise
Listening to the wind blow
Angels with dirty faces face another day in limbo
Beckoning fire from Heaven when everything seems so stone-cold
Beating the drums of change
Another day in limbo
Blinking away the sunrise
Listening to the wind blow
Angels with dirty faces face another day in limbo
Beckoning fire from Heaven when everything seems so stone-cold
Beating the drums of change
Another day in limbo