make hay

Lyrics

so long, so long, so long, so long, so long, my old friend died that way: the accumulation of time and the passing of days, though she dug in her heels--, drug her wheels in the clay--, she dotted her eyes;, crossed the teasels in her leaning dray, where buzzards make circles, a dozen in kettle, comittee & wake;, where wind made the dust, and sin made the snake, and mama made us, but what did i make?, and how was i to know, down in our old goldmine, where you were the king of the radio, and i was the keeper of hi-fi, and i was the queen of the rodeo, and you were the keeper of the lions;, and we were gored, and abased, and adored, and erased, all before our time?, it was before our time, so how was i to know?, how was i to know, while tune hums, and the hand strikes the gong, and all of us plough our row, and the notes run, out of measure and out of time and landing wrong?, the day is long, but not so long, my old friend died alone, save for the friends and family she had known, surrounding her bed, none of whom in that room, could with certainty have said, "i've dotted my eyes, crossed the teasels in my leaning sled, where buzzards make circles and tillers make hay: in windrow and bale, with tedder and rake;, where adam made ribs, and cattle make steak.", (and the rattling nib writes, "what did i make?"), and how was i to know, seeing my seconds pass in a line, if there was a way to reckon love, except as a symptom of time?, and honey, it stretched out below us, humming every note, from the lowest to the highest, but even at the highest we were bored, and amazed, in accord, in a daze, all before our time, it was before our time, so how was i to know?, how was i to know, how was i to know, how was i to know, while the day slows, and the sun stares, stalling, into the dimming barrel of night, where the stars are falling?, i've got no say, but still, i'm calling for my old friend, we sow and we reap, again