(Dan Messe/Gary Maurer)



Mean are the winds that tear at the palms

A tiny baby is crying then calms

And curses ring out instead of the psalms

I don't know



And black are the sounds dragged from the trains

They leave a trail of rust in the rains

Great Lakes are spilling across the Great Plains

They swallow up everything



Oh no, oh no

Board up the windows and shoot at the crows

And lay every might thing low



Well I didn't know that day that I fell

In Terre Haute at the Paris Hotel

Where I lost something that I'd never sell

I let go



Now all that I see keeps me afraid

I count the years by the marks that they made

And watch the sun from a circle of shade

That swallows up everything



Oh no, oh no

Board up the windows and shoot at the crows