The screen door to the farmer's porch To the back porch, to the backlands It's never left closed
A new air pushed a full wind That brought worlds on through That only he could know
As the last of November passed With his new life, with his new wife She said she was feeling a little cold
The ghost of a clown just danced in and Did a few tricks and danced out again Warming a farmer's soul
Summer was all there was We were working, breathing heat Terror rising out of control
Through that door came a breeze Wrapped on through our heads and around our spines Cooling off the burning floor
The morning's breaking woke us long enough We were sure we could see The whole of some older birds Riding to the ground on the falling leaves Riding to the ground on some falling leaves One last time One last time To feedTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
