When the wind blows

Ooooh, the lonely boys

In their towers of faith

Ooooh, the lonely boys

Locked in their towers of faith



The prophet reclined

On the Golan Heights



Ohhh, the lonely boys



He said, this land is my land

To the Shiites



Ooooh, the lonely boys



And Jehova looked up from the sea of Galilee beneath

He said, I see you, you thief

This land is my land

And this sand is my sand

And this band is my band

Oh the lonely boys

Lookin' over their shoulder

Checkin out every boulder in the park

Where the gates are closed from hate

After dark



And the Pope rolled up in his armored van

He fell on his knees and kissed the land

He said something that I did not understand

It was in polish

Then up stepped an aide

He said, I will translate

Here is what His Holiness said:

'I am the Chief Jesuit.'

'This land is Jesus' land.'

'And that is all'

'All that there is to it.'

Hail Mary

Mother of God



And in New York City

The business man in his mohair suit

In the world trade center

Puffs on his cheroot

And he said,

Well I don't care who owns the desert sands

My brief

Is with the hydrocarbons underneath

And the sea of battle rages

Around the ancient tombs

And mother nature licks her wounds

And the lonely boys locked in their towers of faith

Who are nervous in the park

When the gates are closed after dark

Ooooh, the lonely boys

In their towers of faith

Ooooh, the lonely boys

Locked in their towers of faith

Rock a bye baby

On the tree top

When the wind blows

The cradle will rock

Oh babe, hate to see you fall that way

Better speak to the powers that be today

Hey Joe, where you goin'

With that gun in your hand?

You can take your revenge

But you'll still feel bad

There must be more to life than lucky strikes

And some unlucky ones

And folded flags and pipes

And drums



I stood in the wings with you

Our lives in the hands of a second-rate actor

Holding the high ground

Of some old stage

Oh babe, how do these jaded stars get so far away

Will they catch what the moral had to say



Hey Joe, where you goin'

With that dogma in your head?

You can prove your point

But your kids will still be dead

Bring down the curtain

This soap opera must surely close

Before the cold wind blows



Hey Joe, where you going

With that gun in your hand

You can take your revenge

But you'll still feel bad

Bring down the curtain

This show must close

Before the cold wind blows



So rock a bye baby

On the tree top

When the wind blows

The cradle will rock

There must be more to life than lucky strikes

And some unlucky ones

And folded flags and pipes

And drums