What's that sound all down the road,
Of the dry (crinkled?) stone
Said goodbye, (sol?) afternoon,
In a window with the sun coming through.
You're slow and rising wave,
In a field, your bodies wave.
Kissing what people say
No-o-o way, no way.
Ho-oly Ro-olle-ers,
Getting up when it's over.
Let them under,
Those fields of clover.