Whistling With the Birds

Sitting by a fire
Sitting on a train
Thinking of the sins of Man
Thinking of America
Watching the moon
Watching the black river
Crying for my misery
Crying for a prayer
Gathering my thoughts
Gathering my grace
Looking for the king
Looking for the end

Oh sweet love of mine
When the door closed behind you
I thought about following
But the garden needed tending

Building a new temple
Building a new vision
Thinking of my Mother
Thinking of her dead Father
Listening for the wagon
Listening for good luck
Fighting off the soldiers
Fighting off the rain
Shaking with a fever
Shaking with the blues
Ignoring the folk singer
Ignoring the president

Oh sweet love of mine
When you sat by the fire
I never thought you'd catch the train
Now you've gone

I'm out here tending my garden
Whistling with the birds




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