At last, I lay down my bags, half dead in the pacific sand

I’d been chasing something west, but it stayed just ahead

And today, today is the same as it was then in 2008

In the stillness of central LA, nothing ever blows my way

It’s the same blank sky and the sun so much I don’t even look up

No clouds to dream against, is heaven so far from us?

And no wind waving the trees

It’s as if god’s hands are hid in his sleeves

Like he’s packed up and gone to the coast

And left us alone in the street, hands going slowly east

Oh hands, hold in the prayer, pull the dream from the pacific air

All day you say your namaste, looking for light in the blinding day

You pose and you patiently wait, your arms held out like a sail

So close, you just need the wind, to come blow you up the hill

Those hills, that’s what you need

That cool breeze washing you clean

And you fly high like a kite

Onto the other side of the hard Angelino night

Give us the wind like a smack in the face

The kind that i miss from my easterly days

And when the palm fronds all fall in the street

Aren’t they like hands reaching out, hands reaching out to me?