Every morning she sweeps the dust
That settles there on the step at her door...

In the shade of the car
By the side of the road...

Do not listen to the moon, child
He'll whisper only nonsense in your ear...

We were the best of friends
All summer long and through the fall and winter...

She builds booby traps from paper clips
And ration cans while her GI lover...

Come forth with dogs
To worship sheep...