In the howling wind comes a stinging rain
Into the souls on the tree of pain
From the firefly, a red orange glow
Running scared in the valley below
In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum
And the angel was overcome
You raise a flower of fire
See the flames higher and higher
His face red like a rose in a thorn bush
Like all the colors of a royal flush
And he's peeling off those dollar bills
And I can see those fighter planes
And I can see those fighter planes
Across the mud huts where the children sleep
Through the alleys of a quiet city street
You take the staircase to the first floor
Turn the key and slowly unlock the door
As a man breathes into a saxophone
And through the walls you hear the city groan
Outside is America, America
Across the field you see the sky ripped open
See the rain through a gaping wound
Pounding on the women and children