This is a postcard
    Saying I'm alright in this beautiful city

    This is a phone call
    Saying, yes, I am sleeping alone here
    But the telephone lines are cut
    My hands can't hold the paper
    You are on my mind

    Nobody knows your name here,
    Except when the moon is out
    And then they toss in their sleep
    Crying out for you to take them
    But me I cannot sleep,
    I cannot dream,
    My heart is shattered
    You are on my mind

    Once seven colors used to make a man blind
    And now we are like birds stuck in barbed wire

    Precise, like sunrise
    child just like any other
    Made of the bones of the earth
    Fragile and deathless
    Yes, I'm alright
    I'm a church,
    And I'm burning down

    You are on my mind...