When Wind Waltzes Through the Wheat

Its nearin’ trail’s end and you’re windin’ down the drive, There’s a touch of cool breeze and it’s good to be alive— You’re headin’ toward the railhead and hear the cow’s bleat— The ends always near, when wind waltzes through the wheat. You’re happy on your haunches though you ain’t well fed— You know the drive’s a good one when you don’t leave no dead. And in your mind are mountains – the rain and the sleet— Things that always last, when wind waltzes through the wheat. So now you’re through with shippin’ and the work’s all done, And you ride off to some line shack where it all begun— But in dreams you’re prayin’ for more summers and heat And all those old times, when wind waltzes through the wheat.