Sallow grass in the gray rain
Rusting gates on a dirt lane
Triticum grows through the floor
Lock the latch on the dead door
Cold wind bites through a thin coat
Salt air clings to a dry throat
Searching maps for a safe town
Heavy boots weighing me down
Stay in the green of the pine
Cross over that broken white line
Wait for the dawn in the cold
Stories of gold that were told
Empty cans on the wet street
Tired soles on a long beat
Silver cans in a dark bag
White cloth tied to a torn flag
Stay in the green of the pine
Cross over that broken white line
Wait for the dawn in the cold
Stories of gold that were told
Sift the loam for a seed
Finding everything I need
Roots grow deep in the clay
While the light turns to gray
Steel blue sky over the hill
Every window is frozen and still
Canned peaches in a dented tin
Let the slow winter begin
Dried leaves crunch under my shoe
Looking out for a hint of blue
Walk the coast to the northern shore
I cannot take any more
Stay in the green of the pine
Cross over that broken white line
Wait for the dawn in the cold
Stories of gold that were told
Chernov Glass
Chernov Glass
In the cold
Stay in the green