Dark Horse

Dark Horse - Bowerbirds

On the shore of the lake

In the great upstate of New York

Came the call of a loon

Cold cold o'er a plume of smoke

He spoke to my center

He spoke of the future

He sang "You my friend are alone alone "

We live with the cockroach

And we split our cords of oak

And keep this wood stove burning

While the bitter winds are blowing

We stow our words in the cellar

So we never lose hope

And keep this wood fire stoked

While the bitter winds blow

Alone on the land

In the love of the dirt again

There's a sharp jagged winter

At the center of my home

Of my blood and bones

That sleets and snows and makes me shiver

But you my heart I will never know

We live with the cockroach

And we split our cords of oak

And keep this wood stove burning

While the bitter winds are blowing

We stow our words in the cellar

So we never lose hope

And keep this wood fire stoked

While the bitter winds blow