Promised Land (scratch)

Songs From Nowhere Project

you can never turn your back
on the pain that you can’t see
better keep your blindfold tight cause it’s your guard against
the cracks
in the american dream

standing there upon the street
with her cup within her hand
the wanderer without a tribe is forced to beg for bread
to live
in this promised land

purple mountain majesties
oh those amber waves of grain
the poor ones within our midst they always seem to be the ones
to need
and get no rain