The Last Resort

By Don Henley

She came from Providence,
The one in Rhode Island,
Where the old world shadows hang
Heavy in the air.
She packed her hopes and dreams
Like a refugee,
Just as her father came
Across the sea.

She heard about a place
People were smilin'.
They spoke about the red man's way,
And how they loved the land.
And they came from everywhere
To the Great Divide,
Seeking a place to stand
Or a place to hide.

Down in the crowded bars,
Out for a good time,
Can't wait to tell you all,
What it's like up there.
And they called it paradise;
I don't know why.
Somebody laid the mountains low
While the town got high.

Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
Through the canyons of the coast
To the Malibu
Where the pretty people play
Hungry for power
To light their neon way
And give them things to do.

Some rich men came and raped the land;
Nobody caught 'em.
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes,
And Jesus-people bought 'em.
And they called it paradise;
The place to be.
They watched the hazy sun
Sinking in the sea.

You can leave it all behind
And sail to Lahaina,
Just like the missionaries did
So many years ago.
They even brought a neon sign:
"Jesus is coming"
Brought the white man's burden down,
Brought the white man's reign.

Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
'Cause there is no more new frontier;
We have got to make it here.
We satisfy our endless needs
And justify our bloody deeds
In the name of destiny
And the name of God.

And you can see them there
On Sunday morning.
They stand up and sing about
What it's like up there.
They call it paradise;
I don't know why.
You call someplace paradise,
Kiss it goodbye.