Last night I set the bed on fire I woke up in a spider web I tore down the great wall of Mexico Let the rest of the immigrants in And said “You can live in my basement And I can see that we will make great friends I'll give you the third degree Until the branches of the giving tree bend But they won't bend in your favor You should have learned from your brother Cooking dead beneath the desert sun Under the shadows of the vultures I woke up in Arizona with a fist full of tight, dried blood
Must have been brought there by an angel She must have dropped me off at the road They must have picked up my casket In the back of their flat bed They must have found me laying half-dead In the middle of the cactus And then I think of my family In their own d**h valley Huddled next to each other Under the shadows of the vultures Did we learn from each other? Could we stop being so stubborn? Can you learn from another? Or just be judged by your struggles?