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 I'm 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