Guadalupe

There are ghosts out in the rain tonight

High up in those ancient trees

Lord, I've given up without a fight

Another blind fool on his knees

And all the Gods that I've abandoned

Begin to speak in simple tongues

Lord, suddenly I've come to know

There are no roads left to run

Now it's the hour of dogs a-barking

That's what the old ones used to say

It's first light or it's sundown

Before the children cease their play

When the mountains glow like mission wine

And turn gray like a Spanish roan

Ten thousand eyes will stop to worship

And turn away and head on home

She is reaching out her arms tonight

Lord, my poverty is real

I pray roses shall rain down on me

From Guadalupe on her hill

But who am I to doubt these mysteries

Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke

I am the least of all your pilgrims here

I am most in need of hope

She appeared to Juan Diego

She left her image on his cape

Five hundred years of sorrow

Have not destroyed their deepest faith

But here I am your ragged disbeliever

Old doubting Thomas drowns in tears

As I watched your church sink through the earth

Like a heart worn down through fear

She is reaching out her arms tonight

Lord, my poverty is real

I pray roses shall rain down on me

From Guadalupe on her hill

But who am I to doubt these mysteries

Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke

I am the least of all your pilgrims here

But I am most in need of hope

I am the least of all your pilgrims here

But I am most in need of hope