gene clark
winter in
Blackbird was in the field and the sun was getting dim The breeze running through the trees like an organ in a hymn Thoughts were suspended like a leaf out on a limb Fire was burning low and the winter coming in Now some music was playing in the background of the night Some friends from around came in and they all said things were high And we spoke of a stranger that we all met on the way Who said there was danger in those who watch out for their greed Now the summer is past the grain and the river getting high It's amazing a month can bring so many things that can get by The old ways were drowning to the new ones with a sigh It seems so incredible that sometimes I could cry.