Church Of The Pines

Spring, spring.. flowers blossom and bloom.

Squirrel, squirrel.. jump down onto my roof.

Sparrow, Cardinal, hummingbird.

Redwood, holly tree, juniper...

The service moves slowly through the hills

Faint sound of the highway

Night sets on the church of pines,

Ending the day, they laid down to rest.

From my room, I look at the street

And see the youths passing along

While I unwind, head in a song.

And in my bed, I play the guitar

I loosen the strings 'til I find a tone

And if it don't come... then I put it down.

Howl, howl.. dogs of the neighborhood

Moon glow, over the gravestones

Dense vines, strangle the black oaks

The lamp light, the fallen fence posts.

The sun rises over the tree line...

With welcoming morning light.

Day sets on the church of pines,

One day we'll all.. be laid to rest.

From the hills I look up at stars

And feel the darkness swell like a bruise

And in my head, I'm playing with words

I scramble and strain to find the right ones

Sometimes there are none.

Sometimes they don't come.