Clouds torn to rags in the western sky Smell of rain upon the breeze You guide your old car down the gravel road River shines beyond the trees Hills nestle close together Like lovers in their sleep Outline soft with willows The valleys dark and deep There’s a young kid with a fishing pole He’s watching painted turtles on a log There’s a smelly knot of restless boys With a shaggy grinning dog They call to him and they break his dreams As he lies there in the shade He leaps up and grabs his homemade spear Runs off shouting through the glade You were that kid long years ago Before your world was stained Some heartache and some lonesome years there Something inside you changed Too many years slip by too fast While you’re fighting the good fight Something lurks inside your chest It’s like a clock spring, and it’s wound too tight And there comes a time when maybe money Is like another way of keeping score Maybe all this stuff’s just so much junk Who needs it any more? So you’re looking for that quiet place Where no one locks their doors No asshole with a cell phone Is ever going to find you anymore Could be better days ahead But these graceful and familiar hills They’re like a lover’s face They’re soft and gentled by the years Far from the noise and race Your eyes grow soft and faraway Lines fade from around your mouth You watch the light slant through the trees The golden fading south Could be better days ahead There’s a half-crazed whitetail, he’s wild with rut He’s giving hell to some poor tree Wild turkeys running through the brush There’s a red tail on the breeze Smell of woodsmoke, pine and river mud Drift sweetly past your nose You leave the years behind you Like a small kid sheds his clothes So here’s a window you can dream beside, boy Clear stars above your head There’s silence, there’s darkness, there’s trees outside Maybe a woodstove by your bed In that silent darkness Red firelight like wine The wind blows through the branches Lord God can you feel that spring unwind inside of you? Better days ahead.