Folk Song

Summer sky and a throat bone dry And the fields are all gold Dusty lane with a song in my brain And it stoned me to my soul I climb higher move towards The fire, blaze sun Silver trees and a whispering breeze Are my sight and my sound And the thought of heaven Couldn't drag me from the path When I'm wandering here alone I climb higher move towards The fire, so blaze sun Watch until it dies Slow falling from the sky Pale fading sun