Well uh,
I see fingers, hands and shades of faces
Reachin' up and not quite touchin' the promised land
I hear pleas and prayers and a desperate whisper sayin'
Oh lord please give us a helpin' hand
Yeah yeah
Way down in the background
I can see frustrated souls and cities burning
And all across the water babe
I see weather's barkin' out the stain of death
And up in the clouds I can imagine UFO's chucklin to themselves
Laughin' they sayin',
Those people so uptight, they sure know how to make a mess
Hey
Back at the saloon my tears mix with mildew with my drink
I can't really tell my feet from the sight of the stone on the floor
But as far as I know they may even try to wrap me up in cellophane and sell me
Brothers help me and don't worry about lookin at the storm
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