Greenfield seems so far away From this God-forsaken land Far from that old and feeble farm And the man with the white gloved hands The Moroccan sun is beating down And shattering through my soul The city's eyes are open wide And they just may swallow me whole I wish you could've been a ghost I wish I didn't have to see You hanging down like wind chimes From daddy's hollow tree Your flowers are pinned up on my wall But not your little boy in blue Henry kept him locked away The same place he kept you Even now in these moonlit hours With my calabash burning low I see your epitaph in the stars And in the haze it weeps and glows I wish you could've been a ghost I wish I didn't have to see You hanging down like wind chimes From daddy's hollow tree I wish you could've been a ghost I wish I didn't have to see You hanging down like wind chimes From daddy's hollow tree From daddy's hollow tree From daddy's hollow tree I wonder if they're scared Do they think we pose a threat Well even if we do We're not through with them yet Well mother hear me now And brother hold me tight It's clear against the dark But I'm still shaking through the night