I woke up thinking about Turkish drummers
   It didn't take long: I don't know much about Turkish drummers
   But it made me think of Germany
   And the guy who sold me cigarettes
   Who'd been in the Afghan secret police
   Who made the observation
   That it's hard... to live
  
   Then I was reminded of the proprietor of a Vietnamese restaurant in Quebec
   Who used to be head of the secret police in Danang
   And it occurred to me I was thinking about all this stuff to keep from
   thinking about something else
   Isn't that just what secret police are all about now?
  
   Somebody stands at a window
   Watches the river roll
   Trains rumble in the foreground
   With the weight of approaching dawn
  
   Flames from the refinery
   Rise broken-red and riveting
   And the high vault of heaven
   Looks far away and cold
  
   There's a howling in the factory yard
   There's a pounding in my head
   I'm swollen up with unshed tears
   Bloated like the dead
  
   (Instrumental break)
  
   Blood and ashes
   Time burning
   On the skyline dark against the stars
   A solitary horseman
   Waiting
  
   Lashed to the wheel
   Ripping in the storm
   Get up, Jonah
   It's your time to be born
   Get up Jonah
   It's your time to be born