Greyhair fool, shoes undone

The fields ahead

Leaves black as coal

Landmark-free, no walls, no trees

to greet him on this night of his return



CHORUS:

So who will love this lie on legs

who can't change skin and is not yet dead?

The universal foreigner

The homeless greyhair son



Scrambles blind up muddy slope

then silent shakes before rusty gates--CHORUS



There's a house, its roof caved in

A rusty wreck of car

A lightning-blasted tree

and a man who says,