Baby in Death Can I Rest Next to Your Grave

I love to watch the pigeons flutter Don't mind the bums sleeping in the gutters In San Francisco's tenderloin I walk the streets and feel the joy I love to watch the kittens sleep In the bookstore window down the street They warm my heart, they give me comfort Like newborn baby birds My life work takes me away From my baby, she knows that they When I sing her off to sleep That in the morning I'm gonna leave Off to far and cryptic worlds Where the oceans and planets swirl Where the nature turns and twists Its knife into the back of happiness I took a bus to Jerusalem And took a peek at the Dead sea Got stuck in a traffic jam On the way back to Tel Aviv Coulda been the scorching red sky Coulda been the sand in my eyes But I think i missed the rock that Jesus touched And the wall where the jews cried But the young girls looked lovely soaking in the sun In their army fatigues smoking cigarettes And the boys looked displaced in their crew cuts and shades Holding AK-47's at 21 years of age Flew to Melbourne, Australia Flew from Adelaide to Perth Never saw the indigenous, never saw the sun It rained all the evening, it rained all the day Never got to see the outback, or visit Bon Scott's grave Woke up in Miami, drove to West Palm Beach, Florida Still not a sight of crocodile or a giant tortoise Floated up to the sky where the sun lost its glow When my plane touched the ground, I was looking off at the snow Scraped my feet from Vancouver to Calgary to Halifax Dragged my spanish guitar a 100 times across the european lands Flew to Taipei, flew to Singapore, flew to Tokyo, flew to Seoul Though they welcomed me with kindness I felt painfully alone Shared a moment with a sweetie, put an ease on my breast Came home fingers crossed, tired as a pre-war penny And the shame it set in when my love saw my face But her water's will run, shall in time be erased And I woke from a dream where I asked to be saved And said, "Baby, in death can I rest next to your grave?" And I woke from a dream where I asked to be saved And said, "Baby, in death can I rest next to your grave?" Where will your soul go, where are you gonna be buried In whose hands is your coffin gonna be carried? Or are these the thoughts, those that you would not rather? When will you die, where will your ashes be scattered? If you don't want me in death Then please drop my remains in the nearest tenderloin gutter And ii won't complain Next to the homeless for we are all brothers Next to the pigeons and I watch them flutter