If I had my way I'd cross the desert to the sea Learn to speak in tongues something That makes sense to you and me I'd like to unplug the phone Sending messages with a mirror Stand on the old plateau With a satellite dish and Geronimo's ghost Down in the Rio Del Sol I sunk my suitcase alone Filled up the Amazon With snakes and vines and ropes for my clothes Me and Jane Doe and Rousseau We've got nowhere to go Walking through cactus and stones With our bare hands mining for gold Down in the city so cold Shining like razors in the sun You can go there anytime that you like And try to find happiness from a gun