I slept beneath the light of the sodium moon
Parked between trailers and the interstates boom

My pallet, the bosom of my old sleeping bag
I shake off the cold in my four-wheel nag

      The clouds are lifted, the curtain is drawn
      My caravan's waiting, the morning has come

I drive from St. Paul into Iowa
Tomorrow through Illinois to sing in Indiana

The milepost markers make a fine rosary
Down the Avenue of Saints, past the town of Albert Lea

      Past factory outlets and budget motels
      To lonely old farms where the land's up to sell

You can lay down four lanes and build up a mall
But I keep coming back in spite of it all

Cause there will still be places that you will never change
A horizon so wide, my home on the range

      The only Saints I seen on this avenue
      Are planting the acres and harvesting food

Silos like Buddhas near Indian mounds
Sunflower monks watch the world turning round

Just how many more roads you need between St. Paul and St. Louis?
When a bald eagle fly's above the Mississippi

      Oh Avenue of Saints, I won't grudge you now
      A dirt road you ain't, but I'm with you anyhow

I slept through the night beneath the sodium moon
On the Avenue of Saints by the interstates boom