Vārdi: Greg Brown. How Black The Fields.

How black the fields at night in spring
Careening thru the sky
The farmer dreams what the year will bring
Birds rest with open eye
The few deer fly to the dancing place
Orion falls from sight

Oh rock me in the universe
Rock me I 'til I sleep
Rock me when I leave this place
Rock me sweet and deep

I think I'll walk until the sun
Brings us another day
Men quarrel with everyone
They grow old and refuse to play
But how black the fields in the early light
The seed is on its way