How to Find Love in a Place Like This Lyrics

Dear Mr. Eliot, I've found the Wasteland

It took a hundred years but it came at last

Didn't come from without

But it came from within

How to find love in a place like this

Sodom, D.C. or Gomorrah, Los Angeles

My tower of corpses is made of ivory

From the very tip-top

I can look down and see

All of my citizens who are less than me

Prancin' on your grave, a big parade

That love is gone and I'm the one to blame

The Poet has died and the songs are all the same

And we ain't got a clue

Dear Mr. Cohen, I've lost my romance

It's whittled away over decades past

And all that is left

Is my heart turned black

How am I supposed to write a poem with that?

Tell me what we gained when we gave up the myth

No meaning to pain, no reason for bliss

What was a mistake?

The Enlightenment

How to find love in a place like this

Prancin' on your grave, a big parade

That love is gone and I'm the one to blame

The Poet has died and the songs are all the same

And we ain't got a clue

Dear Mr. Dylan, your time is fleeting

The world keeps changing as you are leaving

Not for the better

From what I can see

I don't even know if the youth can bleed

The zealots are marching and they invent sins

They erect new gods and then eat them

It seems like the end

Is about to begin

How to find love in a place like this

Prancin' on your grave, a big parade

That love is gone and I'm the one to blame

The Poet has died and the songs are all the same

And we ain't got a clue

Prancin' on your grave, a big parade

That love is gone and I'm the one to blame

The Poet has died and the songs are all the same

And we ain't got a clue