FAR END OF SUMMER
A portrait of my village, on a still summer's night.

Up above, the moon and stars
Shine down on the streetlights
And the passing cars
And the silence falls on everyone
And I'm walking the dogs
Where the trains used to run
In a small town, at the far end
Of summer
I wave to Mike, Mike waves to me
He runs the gas station
By the factory
And the tractor-trailers lay their burdens down
In the parking lot
In the middle of town
In a small town, at the far end
Of summer
And I hear the sound of shifting stones
Beneath my feet
On the way back home
Dog casts its shadow on the cenotaph's face
Up above a star's
Slow fall from grace
In a small town, at the far end
Of summer
A moth is beating against the screen
Air smells of farms
And gasoline
And the kids at the park
Have got nothing to do
And I sit on my back steps
And think about you
In a small town, at the far end
Of summer


Words and Music:
©David Francey (Ayer's Cliff, Quebec, September 16, 1999)

 

 
 

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