When the woman goes away
And I’m left here on my own
Walking cobblestone
I am cobblestone

With the words we cannot say
About how our love has flown
We are cobblestone
We are cobblestone

And my skin is dry
And the city longs for rain
There’s been blood shed on the streets
To be washed away
To be washed away

We have loved in the mountains
Of blue New Mexico
Now she forgets she knows
She forgets she knows

Here in Guatemala
There’s a dark red undertone
To the cobblestone
To the cobblestone

And my skin is dry
From this country’s dusty prayers
That the women speaking Quiche
Won’t be taken away
Taken away

How dare we love in this city
when we’ve brought the rain’s sad moan?
Our guns and money making gravestones
Of the cobblestone

A woman selling cloth
has born children of the rain
Who glistened and faded
Swept up by cities far away

And my skin is dry
From this tourist city’s pain
Where the men are drunk on tears
That can’t be washed away
Washed away

When the woman goes away
And I’m left here on my own
Walking cobblestone
I am cobblestone

With the words we cannot say
About how our love has grown
You are cobblestone
We are cobblestone

And my skin is dry
And the city longs for rain