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Now every stone has a face
Every leaf, there's a bead of sweat
That drops it's embrace
The day that I left
The day that we met, a story you loved
And that life isn't mine
For a time, it was mine
At peace, in the place where we slept
Without anger
Without language, lately
But now it's rising in me like a fiend
And I feed
At least, I feel what I need
Isn't proof, but some truth of the story
Maybe

Of how we worked to till the soil
Until the labor all but spoiled
How we worked the earth so much
It turned to dust

How am I supposed to feel?
When the robins steal
From the cardinals, in the garden
Turn the autumn wheel
It's how we're supposed to feel
When the onions peel
And the harvest was the hardest
In the garden

I dream of the roads that we'd weave
In the winter
Through fields, all covered in stones
That would dance
When the night came calling
And the quarry of things
And the ring
That went laughing down there
Was it the first missing thing, that we'll never see?
Until they find him

And how I searched upon the shore
Until my knees were red and sore
Because I feared the rest of us would start to rust

How am I supposed to feel?
When the robins steal
From the cardinals, in the garden
Turn the autumn wheel
It's how we're supposed to feel
When the onions peel
'Cause the harvest was the hardest
In the garden

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