Last night I set the bed on fire
I woke up in a spider web
I tore down the great wall of Mexico
Let the rest of the immigrants in
And said “You can live in my basement
And I can see that we will make great friends
I'll give you the third degree
Until the branches of the giving tree bend
But they won't bend in your favor
You should have learned from your brother
Cooking dead beneath the desert sun
Under the shadows of the vultures
I woke up in Arizona with a fist full of tight, dried blood
Must have been brought there by an angel
She must have dropped me off at the road
They must have picked up my casket
In the back of their flat bed
They must have found me laying half-dead
In the middle of the cactus
And then I think of my family
In their own d**h valley
Huddled next to each other
Under the shadows of the vultures
Did we learn from each other?
Could we stop being so stubborn?
Can you learn from another?
Or just be judged by your struggles?