• Balmy still of dead of night
    Clawing cat, a sore of sight
    fearing things that bump in the night
    here I am..... Waiting...... for the crows

    Hollow shell of a man,
    standing with a burlap tan.
    Wishing for a bit of land,
    He waits..... For the crows

    Years and years go racing by
    a big red button for an eye.
    tattered clothes, they're rather dry..
    He waits.... For the crows

    Balmy still of dead of night
    Cawing crows, wish to fight.
    Never to know what is right,
    here I am..... Waiting...... for the crows

    "Really?"

    Years and years pass me by,
    my posts start to crack and splay,
    waiting for that bold, cold day,
    that I fall..... To the ground....

    "Can you hear them?"

    Swooping in, and from the sky
    comes the danger, black wings fly
    circling, contemplating....

    Harvest time, a pleasent day
    the wheat is threshed, straw's been baled
    barking dogs, and grinding stones
    plaid dressed farmer, his name Is Jones.
    Drinking Jack, to pass his day
    I'm done waiting.....


    And now boys and girls, its time...
    For me to move on...