| Summer rain is rolling down your cheek |
| Marbles on your skin |
| Man with the suits says it’s a dollar for a drop |
| The morning dew… a dollar for a drop |
| The sun hits hard as you walk to the well |
| The well thing’s got to stop |
| Man with the suit is the one who deals the drops |
| Water the tree that gives the fruit… a dollar for drop |
| I count the coins in the palm of my hand |
| I can’t pay for the clouds |
| A rebel sun is rising under my skin |
| Soldier put down your gun |
| Something’s got to give |
| We’re gonna kick you out of this town |
| We’re gonna count the silverware before you go |
| We’re gonna send you back northbound |
| We’re gonna change the locks when you go |
| We’re gonna strip you of your fine suit |
| Put you on a raft and blow |
| As you get back on your street, comes a man from the past, the present, |
| the future |
| Gilding by slowly on a wild ride, a chinese junk boat with soccer pitch |
| headlights |
| A giant cloud of incense smoking out of his eyes, you know it make no sense |
| Pine needles cover his ship, a howler monkey is lighting the candles |
| A speaker box box by the helm rattling chimes made of broken bottles |
| The monkey kills the stereo, the man turns his head… can you feel what’s |
| coming? |
| You can’t see his mouth, but moving his lips to make sounds is not his goal |
| He doesn’t have to talk, you already know he’s got a different conception of |
| the soul |
| And he’s steppin out of his ride, you fear that the spear and the machete |
| aren’t for show |
| You got your rubies, your crowns, your rings but they don’t shine so bright now |
| Maybe st john of the smile screens, patron of deceivers wasn’t the ticket |
| That star that followed you at night wasn’t a star after all |
| It was a cosmic vacuum sucking out your heart |
| You won’t need your diamond-incrusted cell phone |
| There’s no signal where your’re going |