When death has stricken all the joy of day
And bled it out in red and golden hue,
I go about my work in paddock fields,
To gather cattle from repose.
And up they mosey to the muddy way,
A heeding save the fiendish few
My voice and tapping stick I cautious weiled;
Which rapps away until they're rouse.
And while I'm out upon the grassy field
I come across a country road
That winds and bends to many lovely places,
And I repine for my own bed;
A thousand thoughts of comfort heart then yields:
For food with friends where joy still flowed,
Or laughter 'bout a table set with faces
I love, where at my love was bred,
Or nights reclined in couch while tails flash
Before my eyes of deeds and feats
Unprecedented in the truth of life;
All while my closest recline nigh.
But no and nein, tonight alone I dash
About a cold and wet paddock and beat
A rhythm while my heart is rife
With cold and dampened thoughts and things most dear.