The piston pumps its pulling shaft around me
In the various vault of convenience
Where I cry
Where I cry
Where I cry

Should you happen to collapse in the grain field
Aloof with Faustian travelers in Mexican jails
Where I cry
Where I cry
Where I cry
Where I cry

Wide roads to deep blue sky
Sticks bow up and down these eyes
Leaving good men slaughtered on the fields
Breaking off stalks that bring no yield
Where I cry
Where I cry