Here with the Hawk

The posts that hold the sky bend and sway like reeds in the wind A cold silver cry, to bring it home again The road you take home cracks and falls away While the woodbine climb, while time honors with decay

Here at the top of the world, you're starving and thin A cold silver tear, to bring it home again Alone with the lost and listless talking Here with the hawk that hunts walking

To bring it on home To bring it on home To bring it on home To bring it on home