Dry grass gnaws at wondering wind
There's been a collapse from soul to shoes,
In morning thaw, the rock face grins
In the ashes of decay we travel in twos,
Scramble through the gravel, away from the hooded men,
They'll steal your sack-cloth
and smelt your cotton gin
They waver into the distance
We all do
The nightwatchmen says to the priest "Father, I've seen this stone before, near the tumbled steeple, or split wood music store,
You've led my soul to faith, and now I realize, I've led our bodies nowhere."
The nightwatchmen cups a hand to his eyes.
They came upon the Baron's
Belt,
A road of blackened gravel
Near the field where ancestors knelt
The bones began to rattle
Shimmering in the distance,
Through a smokey window pane
A solitary horseman
Travels closer over the plane