Church of the Pines

Spring, spring. flowers blossom and bloom.
 Squirrel, squirrel. jump down onto my roof.
 Sparrow, Cardinal, hummingbird.
 Redwood, holly tree, juniper...
 The service moves slowly through the hills
 Faint sound of the highway
 Night sets on the church of pines,
 Ending the day, they laid down to rest.
 From my room, I look at the street
 And see the youths passing along
 While I unwind, head in a song.
 And in my bed, I play the guitar
 I loosen the strings 'til I find a tone
 And if it don't come... then I put it down.
 Howl, howl. dogs of the neighborhood
 Moon glow, over the gravestones
 Dense vines, strangle the black oaks
 The lamp light, the fallen fence posts.
 The sun rises over the tree line...
 With welcoming morning light.
 Day sets on the church of pines,
 One day we'll all. be laid to rest.
 From the hills I look up at stars
 And feel the darkness swell like a bruise
 And in my head, I'm playing with words
 I scramble and strain to find the right ones
 Sometimes there are none.
 Sometimes they don't come.