Four Winds - The Killers

Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe

There's people always dying trying to keep them alive

There's bodies decomposing in containers tonight

In an abandoned building where

The squatters made a mural of a Mexican girl

With fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl

She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world

Four Winds blowing through her hair

But when Great Satan's gone... the Whore of Babylon...

She just can't sustain the pressure where it's placed

She caves

The Bible's blind.

The Torah's deaf.

The Qu'ran is mute.

If you burned them all together you’d get close to the truth

Still they’re pouring over sandscript under Ivy League moons

While shadows lengthen in the sun

Cast on a school of meditation built to soften the times

And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds

It's knocking over fences, crossing property lines

Four Winds cry until it comes

It's the Sum of Man slouching towards Bethlehem

A heart just can't contain all of that empty space

It breaks.

It breaks.

It breaks.

Well I went back by rented Cadillac and company jet

Like a newly orphaned refugee retracing my steps

All the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead

They said, "You'd better look alive"

And now it’s off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps

In the Black Hills, the Badlands, the calloused East

I buried my ballast.

I made my peace.

Heard Four Winds leveling the pines

But when Great Satan's gone, the Whore of Babylon

She just can't remain with all that outer space

She breaks.

She breaks.

She caves.

She caves.

You'd better look alive