Oxbow
Over
In the street the day dims
And I feel like my soul is going with it
Like the flickering of a matchstick flame
Blue and blue and the red
And nothing is the same when
Nothing remains

In cars and bars and grocery stores
Less is more and alone is always
Where I am, when I'm there
And is the quiet whistle
Of my place in soace
I can’t explain the black
Rain that found me
But hope springs eternal
And I yearn for something whose
Name I barely know