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DThis is a postcard
F GSaying I'm alright in this beautiful city
DThis is a phone call
F GSaying, yes, I Am sleeping alone here
D FBut the telephone lines are cut
G F GMy hands can't hold the paper
DYou are on my mind
Nobody knows your name here,
Except when the moon is out
And then they toss in their sleep
Crying out for you to take them
But me I cannot sleep,
I cannot dream,
My heart is shattered
You are on my mind
AOnce seven colors used to make a man blind
And now we are like birds stuck in barbed wire
Precise, like sunrise
A child just like any other
Made of the bones of the earth
Fragile and deathless
Yes, I'm alright
I'm a church,
And I'm burning down
You are on my mind...
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