From night, to a menacing dawn, far away
lost in the fog and frozen
baying of coyotes and the night has fangs
don't get lost in the snags
from dawn, to a sizziling midday close to home
broken metal drones on
flaming grass and the sun has eyes
don't get lost in the sighs
which string has the golden sound
its all copper and silver
from midday, to a scattered patch of afternoon
eating out of a crock pot
tick tock clocks and crickets have sneers
don't get lost in your ears
from afternoon, to a silent echo of
starry night
a used up pile of feathers
freezing sound and the moons in tune
don't go to sleep too soon
which string has the golden sound
its all copper and silver
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