It's raining cats and dogs   At a dinner outside of Wichita   Out of money out of breath   I'm out here in the great Midwest      It ain't like you'll walk through that door   A thousand miles form Baltimore   But if you did you'd see a man   He's drowning in the Promised Land      And all this time I've just been drifting   And I ain't got nothing left   I've been bent and I've been twisted   Into this state of common sense   My back is up against the wall   Hopin' that you'll take this call   Collect from Wichita      I left Dunston Road in a cloud of dust   Screaming black and furious   With slivers in my hand and feet   From pieces of our shattered dreams