Yarns

That dark wool sky

Spun lines of rain

All wound into the balj of Buckners Lake

Us kids built dams

With slicks and muddy hands

Thought that we could keep it from unraveling

So what will we do with all this yam

Thai flows through the field, past grandma's barn?

It's just as cold as it is long

Grandma says, "Boy, knit yourself a song"

There's Kansas skies

In grandma's eyes

You can see the prairie rolling by

She was only nine

In that covered wagon line

Listen Her story is unraveling

So what will we do with all her yarns

Strung up like cobwebs, 'cross the barn

They're just as old as they are long

Grandma says; "Boy; knit yourself a song"

That first cold breeze

Through autumn trees

The mapleridge trembles like a fire

The north wind calls

Thait first leaf falls

The first thread of a summer that's unraveling

So what will we do with all this yam

As winter comes whispering through the barn

It's just as cold as it is long

Grandma says, "Boy, knit yourself a song"

There's a thick black cloak

Thrown 'cross the sky

It holds us deep wrthln the folds of night

But see the way

As dawn's first sunbeam stays

There across the morning, it's unraveling

So what will we do with all this thread

Now that grandma's dead

It's just as black as it Is long

I'll thread it through the needle of my song