Where Will I Be

Oh, the streets are cracked and there's glass everywhere

And a baby stares out with motherless eyes

Under long-gone beauty on fields of war

Trapped in lament to the poet's core

Oh, where?

Oh, where will I be?

Oh, where?

When that trumpet sounds?

Met an Indian boy in Ottawa

He laid me down on a bed of straw

Said, "Don't waste your breath, don't waste your heart

Don't blister your heels, running in the dark"

Oh, where?

Oh, where will I be?

Oh, where?

When that trumpet sounds?

Yeah, I like the heat of your body laying under me

May your wild lip get you where you're going

With your inventions, your intentions

Your laughter, your forever yearning

Oh, where?

Oh, where will I be?

Oh, where?

When that trumpet sounds?

I walked to the river and I walked to the rim

I walked through the teeth of the reaper's grin

I walked to you, rolled up in wire

Walked to the other side of desire

Oh, where?

Oh, where, will I be?

Oh, where?

When that trumpet sounds?

Oh, where?

Oh, where?

Oh, where?

When that trumpet sounds?

Oh, where?

Oh, where?

When that trumpet sounds?

Well, the heart opens wide like it's never seen love

And addiction stays on tight like a glove

Oh, where?

Oh, where will I be?