26 Jan 00 - 11:54 AM (#168635)
Subject: Lyr Add: FIRE (David Mallett)
From: kendall
Sure, its a long one... FIRE
Its the last week in june near the first quarter moon
The Summer is coming down warm
And the corn's in the ground and the vane's turning 'round
As it tells of an oncoming storm.
The cow's in the meadow a sleepy eyed mother
Her calf stands at tether inside>br> The barn swallows carry their bricks and their morter
And the big door is swung open wide.
My Grandfather worked here with his family beside him
God knows how many before
And how many babies and how many wives
Their footsteps are worn in the floor.>br> Now, up from the north there's a black cloud a rolling
Another rolls in from the west
Oh Lord we need rain or we've planted in vain
So just quench us and we'll do the rest.
The weeping old willow that stands in the yard
It sways back and forth in the breeze
There's a rumble of thunder, the rain falls so hard
Bringing the drought to it's knees.
There's a silence that falls in the midst of a storm
As the elements wait and decide
To unleash their forces on mortals like me
Or move on and let us survive.
Now, crash like a sound that I never have heard
Like a cannon from Uncle Johns war
My Father and brother they head for the stairway
I shudder and head for the door.
Now, off the back doorstep the air has that odor
Of brimstone, the rain has gone brown
And off to my right I am blind by the sight
Of the arc of the barn burning down.
The clock in the kitchen says quarter past three
As the gates are flung open from hell
And nothing is sacred no nothing is saved
Cause there's fire and there's flames to be fed
And, there's fire fire out in the barn Father,
Fire in the chicken house too
And the flames run so high that they're lashing the sky
And there's not a damn thing we can do.
Just take what you can carry, leave Grandma's 4 poster bed
It's too big to haul and the doorway's too small
There's a black cloud of smoke overhead.
Take some china, some old things that cant be replaced
Take a chair and the clothes on your back
The roof crumbles in, there's a smudge on your chin
You'd better stay outside, dont go back.
And there's fire fire out in the barn Father fire in the main house too
And the flames run so high they are schorching the sky
And there's not a damn thing we can do.
It's the last week in June near the first quarter moon
The Summer is coming down warm
The corn's in the ground and the vane's turning round
As it tells of an on coming storm.
second verse..
There's four of us home but we're not quite alone
There's a host of ghosts living upstairs
For a house doesn't shelter and then let you pass
After standing for two hundred years. This place is like tinder the timbers are dry
There's dust on the rafters and beams
But the buildings will stand, the've been graced by the hand
Of the ones who were building their dreams
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