Land Of Dreams lyrics

Don't remember much about my baby days,
But I've been told
We used to live on Willow in the Garden District
Next to the sugar bowl

Momma used to wheel me past an ice cream wagon
One side for white and one side for colored
I remember the trash cans floatin' down Canal Street
It rained every day one summer

Momma used to take me to Audubon Park
Show me the ways of the world

You can stand alone
Or with somebody else
Or stand with all of us, together
If you can believe
In something bigger than yourself
You can follow the flag forever

They say it's just a dream
That dreamers dreamed
That it's an empty thing that really has no meaning
They say it's all a lie
But it's not a lie
I'm going to follow the flag 'til I die

Into every life a little rain must fall

I ran out on my children
And I ran out on my wife
Gonna run out on you too, baby
I done it all my life
Everybody cried the night I left
Well, almost everybody did
My little boy just hung his head
And I put my arm, put my arm around his little shoulder
And this is what I said:
"Sonny I just want you to hurt like I do
I just want you to hurt like I do

Of all of the people that I used to know
Most never adjusted to the great big world
I see them lurking in book stores
Working for the Public Radio
Carrying their babies around in a sack on their back
Moving careful and slow

(Chorus)
It's money that matters
Hear what I say
It's money that matters
In the USA

All of these people are much brighter than I

Left Los Angeles a short while ago
Flew 'cross the country back to Buffalo
Walked around through the sleet and the snow
With a red bandana on my head
Saw my momma on 12th and Grand
Standing in the alley with the junkyard man
They were both so loaded they could hardly stand
Talkin' 'bout going to Mexico
I said "Momma I was born
Out there I was born again

People tell me that I brag a lot 'cause I call myself the Masterman
Always talkin' 'bout how I got dynamite in every hand
Hit it
Me and my brother we live alone, got no television, got no
telephone
But when we walk down the street people get out of the way
They say "Here come the Masterman and Baby J"
"Here come the Masterman and Baby J"
Hit it--hit it

Your eyelids are gettin' heavy
Hard to lift
Your mind begins to wander
Things start to drift
Your arms are getting heavy
Hard to lift
You sink down a little deeper
You're feeling wonderful
(Chorus)
Maybe you're falling in love
Maybe you're falling in love
Maybe you're falling, falling, falling, falling in love

You stare across the harbor
At the lights along the bay

One September morning when I was five
My daddy said, "Son, rise from your bed."
I thought, I must be dreaming, it's still dark outside
He said, "Son if you fall behind you'll never get ahead
Here's your little brown cowboy shirt, put it on
Here's your little brown cowboy pants, put 'em on
Here's your little brown shoes, can you tie them yourself?

High on a cliff in Mexico
Staring down at the rocks and the sea below
I can hear the church bells ring
I can hear the choir

I remember the night she left
I drove to the station in the pouring rain
Sat all night behind my big iron desk
The oil on the water made a rainbow

At the end of this bone-white gravel road
They both lie sleeping on a feather bed

All dressed up, nowhere to go
Looks so easy but it isn't you know
Hard to find what you're dreamin' of
But there's something special about our love

Different people, different worlds
You just call me, and I'll be there for you
We belong together you know it's true
'Cause there's something special about our love

It's all right,
Baby, it's ok
We're gonna make it no matter what they say

I was born right here, November '43
My dad was a captain in the army
Fighting the Germans in Sicily.
My poor little momma
Didn't know a soul in L.A.
So we went down to the Union Station and made our getaway.
Got on the Dixie Flyer bound for New Orleans
Across the state of Texas to the land of dreams.
On the Dixie Flyer bound for New Orleans

They say that people are livin' in the street
No food in their belly, no shoes on their feet
Six black children livin' in a burned-up room
One bare light bulb swinging
Little black kid come home from school
Put his key in the door
Mr. Rat's on the stairway, Mr. Junkie's lyin' in his
own vomit on the floor
You gotta roll with the punches, little black boy
That's what you got to do