Because it's poetry:
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.
...
Some rich man 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 in the name of God.
And you can see them there on Sunday morning
stand up and sing about what it's like up there.
They called it paradise, I don't know why.
You call some place paradise - kiss it goodbye.
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