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 Squatters made a mural of a Mexican girl With fifteen cans of spray paint and 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,She caves The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qur'an's mute If you burned them all together you'd get close to the truth still They're pouring over Sanskrit on the Ivy League moons While shadows lengthen in the sun Cast all the school and 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 And 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 I was 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. She breaks. You better look alive.