| E | Bm | |
| Of w | ar and peace the tr | uth just twists |
| D | A | E | |
| Its c | urfew g | ull just gl | ides |
| Upon four-legged forest clouds |
| The cowboy angel rides |
| E | G#m | |
| With his c | andle lit int | o the sun |
| F#m | A | B | |
| Though its gl | ow is waxed in bl | ack |
| E | Em7 | A | E | |
| All except when 'n | eath the tr | ees of | Eden |
| The savage soldier sticks his head in sand |
| And then complains |
| Unto the shoeless hunter who's gone deaf |
| But still remains |
| Upon the beach where hound dogs bay |
| At ships with tattooed sails |
| Heading for the Gates of Eden |
| With a time-rusted compass blade |
| Aladdin and his lamp |
| Sits with Utopian hermit monks |
| Side saddle on the Golden Calf |
| And on their promises of paradise |
| You will not hear a laugh |
| All except inside the Gates of Eden |
| as version |
| Relationships of ownership |
| They whisper in the wings |
| To those condemned to act accordingly |
| And wait for succeeding kings |
| And I try to harmonize with songs |
| The lonesome sparrow sings |
| There are no kings inside the Gates of Eden |
| The motorcycle black madonna |
| Two-wheeled gypsy queen |
| And her silver-studded phantom cause |
| The gray flannel dwarf to scream |
| As he weeps to wicked birds of prey |
| Who pick up on his bread crumb sins |
| And there are no sins inside the Gates of Eden |
| At dawn my lover comes to me |
| And tells me of her dreams |
| With no attempts to shovel the glimpse |
| Into the ditch of what each one means |
| At times I think there are no words |
| But these to tell what's true |
| And there are no truths outside the Gates of Eden |
| as version |