Of The People

Saddle up and out to Morning Dew
The fiction bests the Armageddon on the radio
And how you know these roads now
Like the sun knows settin'

Saddle up and out for straight lines
The highways and freight lines
Gives way to pace, sleepy hollows, and trace
And the friction of the tires is the friction of time
In these pictures of mine

Of the people, of the echoes, of Saturdays in town
Of the embers, of the autumn fires, of wheels on the ground

You know it by the look, you know it by the porch
You know it by the book
These were done in by wind and weather
And these were done in altogether
By force and frenzy, and always crossed swords
By voices heavy with others' wars
You'll know it by the signs
You'll know it by the book
You'll know it by the yards and gardens

Of the people -- full of sand, full of flowers, full of plans
Of the people in God's hand, in the pocket of old land

Saddle up and out, the rain come down
A mile behind, two to go, then two more towns
And on the way out, a husky in Tiro sets to howlin'
And the people come out
One side sings low, one side sings loud, one side refrains
And the only thing They fear
Is that Heaven just hears
The common chorus here

Of the people, born and raised
In this corner of this old state of grace
The harmony, the faith
Of the people out this way