There's a face inside your eyes, And the west wind breaks down across it. There's a space between the lines, And the late sun breaks down across it.
YOU CAN FIND YOUR WAY BACK HOME.
Lay down on your bed of nails. There's some cold gin waiting there for you. Let your head forget what ails you. There's a warm gun waiting before you.
YOU CAN FIND YOUR WAY BACK HOME.
It don't matter, baby, what you've done. Anyway, no one would believe, How many pearls you dropped down in the mud. How many you threw back to the sea....
All your family waits for you, And there's a great feast that lights up the night sky.