A Song Sent Back Home From the Western Frontier

Hello people I know I know the people we are the kind of people from here passed out in a shack with a butt and a beer or outside in the road. And the wind cries and drives one of us to his knees while the moon lights up a line of pine trees that might give some relief but he's ready to freeze in a song sent back home, dear, from the western frontier. Hello people I know I know the people we're not the kind of people from here who say that things change and you can go anywhere and start over again. And with no money at all and too old to get hired when's the ship coming in? where's the ocean, the pier? It's all dust everywhere and banknotes all our years in a song sent back home, dear, from the western frontier. Hello people I know I know what we hoped the kind of people from here with cudgels and cutters and "peace, man" and "cheers" who mean well and don't. And the reason we left used to be very clear and that's just how it is and it's just what we feared we would see if we caught ourselves in a mirror in a song sent back home, dear, from the western frontier.