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I've got this phosphorescent portrait of gentle Jesus meek and mildI've got this harlot that I'm stuck with carrying another man's childThe solitary star announcing vacancy burnt out as we arrivedThey'd throw us back across the border if they knew that we survivedAnd they were surprised to see usSo they greeted us with palmsThey asked for ammunition, acts of contrition and small almsI might recite a small prayerIf I ever said themI lay down on an iron frameFound myself in bedlamI wish that I could take something for drowning out the noiseWailing echoes down the corridorsI've got this imaginary radio, and I'm punching up the dialI've got the A.C. trained on the T.V. so it won't blow up in my eyeAnd everything that I thought fanciful and mocked as too extremeMust be family entertainment here in the strange land of my dreamsNow I'm practicing my likeness of St. Francis of AssisiFor if I hold my hand outstretchedA little bird comes to meI might recite a small prayerLetras de cancionesIf I ever said themI lay down on an iron frameFound myself in bedlamEscaping from the fingers that were stretching through the barsWailing echoes down the corridorsThe player piano picks out "Life Goes On"Ring tone rang out "Jerusalem"And in this pit of sadnessWhere the rank of wretched plungeWe've buried all the innocentsNow we must bury revengeThey've got this scared and decorated girl strapped to the steel trunk of a mustangAnd then they drove her down a cypress grove where traitors hang and stars still spangleThey dangled flags and other rags along a colored thread of twineAnd then they dragged that bruised and purple heart along the road to PalestineSomeone went off muttering, he mentioned thirty piecesEaster saw a slaughtering, each wrapped in bloodstained fleecesThen my thoughts returned to vengeance, but I put up no resistanceThough I seemed a long way from my homeIt really was no distanceAnd I might recite a small prayerIf I ever said themI lay down on an iron frameFound myself in bedlamBowing like an actor acknowledging applausePlaying the Crusader who was conquering the MoorsAnd he knew the consequences, but he won't accept the causeWailing echoes down the corridors From Letras Mania