Where The Wind Is Going Frank Black

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I don't have time for your tears
It's kinda hard to explain
I got a bird in my brain
I got a dog in my ear
I could be gone for a year

Where the wind is going
Indiana or Spain
Where the wind is going
I cannot get in that line
Get to my suffering on time

I hear the whistling outside
I think you think its a witch
She'll be scratching my itch
She'll be brushing my hide
I feel like takin' a ride

Where the wind is going
If I'm broke then I'll bitch
Where the wind is going
I cannot get in that line
Get to my suffering on time

Through the barleycorn
Through the rows of places I was born
Into Babel's maze