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Spring, spring.. flowers blossom and bloom. |
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Squirrel, squirrel.. jump down onto my roof. |
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Sparrow, Cardinal, hummingbird. |
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Redwood, holly tree, juniper... |
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The service moves slowly through the hills |
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Faint sound of the highway |
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Night sets on the church of pines, |
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Ending the day, they laid down to rest. |
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From my room, I look at the street |
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And see the youths passing along |
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While I unwind, head in a song. |
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And in my bed, I play the guitar |
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I loosen the strings 'til I find a tone |
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And if it don't come... then I put it down. |
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Howl, howl.. dogs of the neighborhood |
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Moon glow, over the gravestones |
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Dense vines, strangle the black oaks |
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The lamp light, the fallen fence posts. |
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The sun rises over the tree line.... |
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With welcoming morning light. |
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Day sets on the church of pines, |
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One day we'll all.. be laid to rest. |
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From the hills I look up at stars |
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And feel the darkness swell like a bruise |
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And in my head, I'm playing with words |
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I scramble and strain to find the right ones |
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Sometimes there are none. |
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Sometimes they don't come. |
