I followed a little stream of whiskey to your door
I stand here wondering if there’s more
Would you make me a pallet on your floor
Been down, been down for nothing at all
Got no kind of nothing at all, and nothing ain’t nothing at all

Saw a picture of white sand, with a woman and a man
Walking hand in hand into the sea
I didn’t want to be that man, wanted to be that white sand
The burning edge of Eden land, be pure geography
With uncountable pieces of me.