She left a note on a dollar bill again
and I burned a hole in the state of Michigan
but paper money always make change
April, March and September
the tender months help me to remember
weather and women can be so strange
And In God we Trust
Salt turns to rust
Ashes from Eden
and bone into dust
And I had a river of good intentions
and a head full of great inventions
but blew it all with a slip of my tongue
And On the road to the mountain
I slipped as I stared in an empty fountain
climbed out the ladder but broke the last rung
And In God we Trust
Salt turns to rust
Ashes from Eden
and bone into dust
That which has been
is that which will be
that which was done
is that which is done
for there is nothing
new under the sun
So, In God we Trust
Salt turns to rust
Ashes from Eden
and bone into dust
She left a note on a dollar bill again
and I burned a hole in the state of Michigan
