After the time the geese are here
And make their way upon the land
And nest upon the level sand
Their young to have, and raise, and rear
In a soul I beg there is no fear
Under cracks of rolling thunder
There to rend my heart asunder
To split it with a winter spear
The furs and pine at dawn appear
O’er the mountain, a sun arise
To blind and burn my humble eyes
A mountain breeze towards me steer
Clouds aloft, the shapes draw near
Yet I can only rue the day
And scorn all hope, embrace dismay
There’s not a lick of merry, here
Drowning woes with gin and beer
And bury a bullet in my brain
A way to ease the stress and pain
Wash me, God, I am a stain
And there is no one else to blame
To help me see what is unclear
Geese arrive, they squawk and leer
And waddle upon level the sand
And prepare to leave the land
To greet the firmament with cheer