Lisa Rose

Lyrics

Denouement©
Sea smoke rising at break of day; reddening clouds say
rains may come soon, quench all our thirst, or leave us accursed?
Trees are thrumming, drops aren’t drumming, windstorm coming.
Miles of dirt roads chamomile-lined, sweet dust behind
where sun keeps blazing, parching our plans, now lashing with hail bands.
Trampling wheat fields, vicious fates, shall we kneel here?
We’re like horse herds out in craggy vales: rows of rumps poised to face the gales.
Past viewed before us, behind future-blind, veiled figures be kind.
Passion leads us, hand in hand with despair: ah, such a cheeky pair.
Planting daydreams, hail or drought, shifting night schemes.
We’re all wondering how the story will end, will we transcend this?
Build the middle, admire the now, that will be how.
Seas will swallow vital storms; prayers are hollow.
We live like herds out in open plains: backsides poised to face the pain.