The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Mexican border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
Turns the rifles into silver on the border

On my wall the colors of the maps are running
From Africa the winds that talk of changes comin'
Torches flare up in the night, the hand that sets the farms alight
To spread the word to those who're waiting on the border

In the village where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
But you'll never see the change from day to day
No one notices the customs slip away

Late last night the rain was knocking on my window
I moved across the darkened room and in the lamp glow
I thought I saw down in the street the spirit of the century
Tellin' us that we're all standing on the border

In the islands where I grew up
Nothin' seems the same
Oh the patterns just remain an empty shell
There's a strangeness in the air, you feel too well

The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Mexican border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
Turns the rifles into silver on the border

On the border
On the border
On the border