All Loose Things

Right before the harvest a blackbird sings
Look at them fools down there ain’t got no wings
Storm is a coming rain’s about to fall
Ain’t no shelter round here for these children at all
Scarecrow singing a song by Kevin Welch
Thunder is rumbling as if the devil himself did belch
Now the dirt is spattering turning into mud
Erasing all traces of broken bones and blood
All loose things end up being washed away
All loose things end up being washed away
All loose things end up being washed away
Roosters in the cornstalks pecking at grains
A peddler walks by says, «Why am I cursed like Cain?
I’m all lust and furies doomed to sell my wares
I think I’d been better off not saying prayers
Old harlequins and pilgrims always will believe
Was their savoir on a cross died between two thieves
Ask them and they’ll tell you the son was sacrificed
To undo the sin of Eve that cost us paradise
A dying crap shooter with whiskey on his breath
Is betting inside numbers shootin' dice with death
Says, «All I ever roll is deuces treys and twelve’s»
Blackbird says ‘The gods can’t save us from ourselves'
All loose things end up being washed away