The grass is high,
and the sun is low;
dry, yellow meadows sways in.
The cat is sneaking into the grove;
and somewhere a cricket is weeping.
And you're just sitting on the porch.
It's a long way till tomorrow.
The horse goes down beyond the hill.
The trees are ushing the world.
I've loaned you all of my light,
but still...
I'm wondering about you.
You're just sitting on the porch.
It's a long way till tomorrow.