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• Artiste: Frank Black
• Titre: Where The Wind Is Going
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I don?t have time for your tears it?s kinda hard to explain I got a bird in my brain I got a dog in my ear I could be gone for a year Where the wind is going Indiana or Spain Where the wind is going I cannot get in that line get to my suffering on time I hear the whistling outside I think you think its a witch she?ll be scratching my itch she?ll be brushing my hide I think I?ll go for a ride Through the barleycorn through the rows of places I was born into Babel?s maze in that dark design where the neon red of exit signs leads my simple gaze Down that river side where from loneliness I often died and so many times I will be raised