widespread panic
holden oversoul
The screen door to the farmer's porch To the back porch, to the backlands It's never left closed  A new air pushed a full wind That brought worlds on through That only he could know  As the last of November passed With his new life, with his new wife She said she was feeling a little cold  The ghost of a clown just danced in and Did a few tricks and danced out again Warming a farmer's soul  Summer was all there was We were working, breathing heat Terror rising out of control  Through that door came a breeze Wrapped on through our heads and around our spines Cooling off the burning floor  The morning's breaking woke us long enough We were sure we could see The whole of some older birds Riding to the ground on the falling leaves Riding to the ground on some falling leaves One last time One last time To feed