| I ran a trail of fire | |
| Through the meadow paths | |
| Guided by the river banks | |
| And trees from which | |
| They'll have me hang | |
| Keep running away from the fire | |
| Keep running away from the light | |
| Til it's gone | |
| Are all our summers | |
| At one with the ground? | |
| And everything I loved you for | |
| A trail of fire from the door | |
| That leads me to a hiding place | |
| And locking me inside | |
| How loud this blade of grass | |
| How long til' eventide? | |
| The dark that shroud | |
| Your loving neighbor | |
| He's the one who lit the paper | |
| While the reason's unexpressed | |
| And the sources undetermined | |
| The innocent are voiceless | |
| The voiceless are innocent | |
| Should I cut the middleman? | |
| Just dig a hole and throw me in | |
| Say a prayer to my loving savior | |
| He's the one who lit the paper | |
| From them I strip the title | |
| Extinguished and misuse | |
| And all our engraved memories | |
| Are unsuccessful remedies | |
| I'm sick of papering the cracks | |
| And extinguishing the fire tracks | |
| Though flawed by design | |
| I'm torn from the strife | |
| That did pile at the door | |
| But is feared no more | |
| Though I once wedded her | |
| And her want was to play | |
| As another's arms held | |
| Took her wanting away | |
| Questions on top of questions | |
| Don't think that | |
| It is too late for me | |
| Unsung, untied, unalive |
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