THE GLARING SUN

J. Goodwin
April 2, 1991

Long white clouds
Deep blue sky
Gaze to the sky on the edge of a knife
The glaring sun, the glaring sun
Cool light breeze
Through your hair
You hear your name whispered in the wind
You don't believe... you don't believe

A field of white
A field of green
A broken down shack, left to rot
Tear it down, tear it down
Water pours out
Through the dam
Water breaks through the cracked cement
Hold it back... can't hold it back

The glaring sun
Shield you eyes
Hold the tears and walk away
Don't look back... don't look back.