I've seen your sad towns Too barren for ghosts Empty silos on state highways Five o'clock light, signposts I've seen your old tracks Like scars on your hands Giving nothing to no one Dried vines, iron brands For dollar bills our great green hills Sink down into wasteland And when they're gone they leave you alone To hide your face in the sand I've seen your front porches Sour, peeling paint Fences grown pointless Graffiti, fallen, faint I've seen your junkyards Of tractors and barbed wire Pantry shelves slanting sideways Whistle blows, no buyer For dollar bills our great green hills Sink down into wasteland And when they're gone they leave you alone To hide your face in the sand To hide your face in the sand