At night we crossed the border following a Black robe
To the edge of the reservation-to Cataldo Mission
Where the saints and all the martyrs look down on dying converts
What makes the water holy she says is that that it's the closest thing to rain
I stole a mule from Anthony I helped Anne up upon it
And we rode to Coeur d'Alene-through Harrison and Wallace
They were blasting out the tunnels-making way for the light of learning
When Jesus comes a'calling she said he's coming round the mountain on a train
It's my home-last night I dreamt that I grew wings
I found a place where they could hear me when I sing
We floated on to Hanford on a lumber boat up river
Past the fisheries and the mill-towns like a stretch of future graveyards
She was driven to distraction-said I wonder what will happen
When they find out they're mistaken and the land is too changed to ever change
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We waded through the marketplace-someone's ship had come in
There was silver and begonias-dynamite and cattle
There were hearts as big as apples and apples in the shape of Mary's heart
I said inside this gilded cage a songbird always looks so plain
It's my home-last night I dreamt that I grew wings
I found a place where they could hear me when I sing.
And so they came with cameras-breaking through the morning mist
Press and businessmen-tycoons-Episcopal philanthropists
Lost in their appraisal of the body of a woman
But all we saw were lowlands-clouds clung to mountains without strings
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And at last we saw some people huddled up against
The rain that was descending like railroad spikes and hammers
They were headed for the border-walking and then running
Then they were gone into the fog but Anne said underneath their jackets she saw wings
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