She came from Providence,
|
the one in Rhode Island
|
Where the old world shadows hang
|
heavy in the air
|
She packed her hopes and dreams
|
like a refugee
|
Just as her father came across the sea
|
|
She heard about a place people were smilin'
|
They spoke about the red man's way,
|
and how they loved the land
|
And they came from everywhere
|
to the Great Divide
|
Seeking a place to stand
|
or a place to hide
|
|
Down in the crowded bars,
|
out for a good time,
|
Can't wait to tell you all,
|
what it's like up there
|
And they called it paradise
|
I don't know why
|
Somebody laid the mountains low
|
while the town got high
|
|
Then the chilly winds blew down
|
Across the desert
|
through the canyons of the coast, to
|
the Malibu
|
Where the pretty people play,
|
hungry for power
|
to light their neon way
|
and give them things to do
|
|
Some rich men came and raped the land,
|
Nobody caught 'em
|
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus,
|
people bought 'em
|
And they called it paradise
|
The place to be
|
They watched the hazy sun, sinking in the sea
|
|
You can leave it all behind
|
and sail to Lahaina
|
just like the missionaries did, so many years ago
|
They even brought a neon sign: "Jesus is coming"
|
Brought the white man's burden down
|
Brought the white man's reign
|
|
Who will provide the grand design?
|
What is yours and what is mine?
|
'Cause there is no more new frontier
|
We have got to make it here
|
|
We satisfy our endless needs and
|
justify our bloody deeds,
|
in the name of destiny and the name
|
of God
|
|
And you can see them there,
|
On Sunday morning
|
They stand up and sing about
|
what it's like up there
|
They call it paradise
|
I don't know why
|
You call someplace paradise,
|
kiss it goodbye
|
|
-----------------
|
The Last Resort
|
| The Eagles |
