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Buffalo Valley Rest Area Smith County Welcome Center

de Mark Kozelek

I love to watch the pigeons flutter
Don't mind the bums sleepin' in the gutter
In San Francisco's Tenderloin
I walk its streets and I feel joy

I love to watch the kittens sleep
In the bookstore window down the street
They warm my heart, they give me comfort
Like newborn baby brothers

My life's work takes me away
From my baby, she knows that the day
When I sing her off to sleep
That in the morning, I'm gonna leave

Off to far and cryptic worlds
Where the oceans and planets swirl
Where the nature turns and twists
Its knife into the back of happiness

I took a bus to Jerusalem
Took a peek at the Dead Sea
Got stuck in a traffic jam
On the way back to Tel Aviv

Could've been the scorching red sky
Could've been the sand in my eyes
But I think I missed the rock that Jesus touched
And the wall where the Jews cried

But the young girls looked lovely soakin' in the Sun
In their army fatigues, smokin' cigarettes at lunch
And the boys looked displaced in their crew cuts and shades
Holdin' AK-47s at 21 years of age

Flew to Melbourne, Australia
Flew from Adelaide to Perth
Never saw the indigenous
Never saw the Sun

It rained all the evening
It rained all the day
Never got to see the outback
Or visit Bon Scott's grave

Woke up in Miami
Drove to West Palm Beach, Florida
Still not a sign of crocodile
Or a giant tortoise

Floated off to the sky
Where the Sun lost its glow
And when my plane touched the runway
I was lookin' off at the snow

Scraped my feet from Vancouver
To Calgary, to Halifax
Dragged my Spanish guitar a hundred times
Across the European map

Flew to Taipei, flew to Singapore
Flew to Tokyo, flew to Seoul
Though they welcomed me with kindness
I felt painfully alone

Shared a moment with a Swede, put an ease on my bleed
Came home with fingers crossed, tired as a pre-war penny
And the shame, it set in when my love saw my face
But our waters would mesh, and in time we erased

And I woke from a dream where I asked to be saved
And said: Baby, in death, can I rest next to your grave?
And I woke from a dream where I asked to be saved
And said: Baby, in death, can I rest next to your grave?

Where will your soul go? Where are you gonna be buried?
In whose hands is your coffin gonna be carried?
Or are these the thoughts, those that you would not rather?
When will you die? Where will your ashes be scattered?

If you don't want me in death, then please drop my remains
In the nearest Tenderloin gutter, and I won't complain
Next to the homeless, for we are all brothers
Next to the pigeons, and watch them flutter

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