From the recording Fat Head, Sunday Paper
Lyrics
In memoriam, roadside near Peru
White cross, plastic flowers,
And a poem by Maya Angelou
Trucks flying by
Well, I’ve never been to see
Saint Bernadette
Or Fatima, but all I can tell you is
Now I’m inclined
I’m building a shrine
It’s to everyone
And it’s to everything
Got candles and incense
And a bell you can ring
How do we get from here to there
Feel something sacred in the air
Usually given to answer
The call of my bed
Now I’m driven by angels
I’m out of my head
I’ve seen signs
I’m building a shrine
She’s a bathtub Madonna
With a yin and a yang
And a phonograph playing
Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline
I’m building a shriine
How do we get from here to there
Feel something sacred in the air
To all that has ever held
A place in my heart
From the moon and the stars
To the smile on your face
When you shine
I’m building a shrine
Got the tooth of a Buddha
A guitar pick from James
An autographed scorecard
But you can’t read the name
Oh oh
Oh oh oh….
In memoriam, roadside near Peru
White cross, plastic flowers, and a poem by Maya Angelou
Trucks flying by
Trucks flying by