As a child, it was the place names

Singin′ at me as the first thing

How the mouth must be employed in every corner of itselfTo say "Appalacicola" or "Hushpukena," like "Gweebarra"

A promise softly sung of somewhere else

And as a young man, blessed to pass so many road signs

And have my foreign ear made fresh again on each unlikely sound

But feel at home, hearin' a music that few still understand

A butchered tongue still singin′ here above the ground

The ears were chopped from young men if the pitch cap didn't kill them

They are buried without scalp in the shattered bedrock of our home

You may never know your fortune

Until the distance has been shown between what is lost forever

And what can still be known

So far from home to have a stranger call you, "Darling"

And have your guarded heart be lifted like a child up by the hand

In some town that just means "Home" to them

With no translator left to sound

A butchered tongue still singin' here above the ground