|
She talked in riddles |
|
She talked in three dimensional |
|
She held my lazy head when evening light was gone |
|
She called the breaks |
|
I ploughed the lower forty when |
|
She called me plough boy |
|
Say what paddock were you on |
|
Chorus ~ |
|
Summer sun when my day is done |
|
God help me just to shade my eyes |
|
Harvest moon she'll be rising soon |
|
God willing and the creek don't rise |
|
She knows I'm right |
|
She knows I'm so conventional |
|
She knows I'm cultivated furrows on my brow |
|
The land was mortified |
|
The land was indivisible |
|
I tell you someday we will reap what we might sow |
|
Chorus |
|
Don't rise x 3 |
|
She calls me Captain |
|
She knows I'm so industrious |
|
She fills my tea - cup when the window shades are down |
|
We load the pick - up |
|
We're making individual |
|
We're making all that hay while driving into town |
|
Chorus |
|
Don't rise |
|
Harvest moon she'll be rising soon |
|
God willing and the creek don't rise |
|
Don't rise ~ x 4 |
|
(fade) |