Pity my brother

For how he's suffered me

Through nameless towns

And cold prairie

For restless women

At the end of the line

Who tendered checks for

A promise divine

Cash as quick as "vegas"

Like "vegas" in a dream

I work this charismatic ruse

For my brother's peace and being

Sittin' tight in moline

The money on the bed

With every memory sharp to me

And the fear of times ahead

CHORUS

Maybe the good book

Came from the divine

Or maybe it was written

Just to keep us in line

The mistakes of the sages

Make the rules for the fools

So father forgive me

For bendin' the rules...

Well, mister he improved some

With the money I scammed

Some days his light shines as bright

As the light of the promised land

Death was often something

We freely would discuss

When he was ten and I was twelve

And the spectre would often brush

In and out of treatments

Since twenty months of age

At eighteen the insurance

No longer would maintain

And my old man in the kitchen

His hands upon his face

Did weep to shake his very soul

In the darkness of this place

CHORUS

Hold me Saint Christopher

Over every county line

Overlook my blasphemy

For the sake of buying time

Grant him days of laughter

Bestow me clemency

He sleeps soft in the back seat

His freedom from ordeal

To every ruddy youngster

Off free in summer's fields

And every young lass poised to claim

Her share of what love yields

To all the grieving angels

And the litany of saints

I am my brother's keeper

To what end decides the fates

CHORUS