Extraordinary landscape
smothered in a smoke field
behind my lens
The end of a road
a broken fence
the silence of the fir trees
a quiet house burning
 
Things that are lost then found again
to be viewed in museums
to be handled again
to be seen again
 
Subterranean minefield 
 
There are millions of tents
pitched under the highway pass
Its Hooverville for the 21stcentury
where the banks robbed us
and the poor got poorer
And we chug along blindly
clinging to the past 
business practices
 
the bull raises the horn
and smiles at the dirt
just for being alive
 
Just for being alive
Just for being alive
 
 
The bull raises the horn
and smiles at the dirt
just for being alive
Just for being alive
the bull raises the horn 
and smiles at the dirt 
just for being alive
 
I'm getting old in the cobweb decades
that surpass your youth 
in straight clean lines
my wandering eyes 
blank testimony
 
Just for being alive
Just for being alive
The bull raises the horn 
and smiles at the dirt