The Coming Rains

All day the mountains rose behind a veil of smoke from burning fields And road dust dyeing black skin bronze and the road rolling like a rough sea It's quiet now, just crickets and a dog fight somewhere in the far away In my heart I hold your photograph And the thought of you comes on like the feel of the coming rains Hot breeze ran its fingers through the long grass of a thatched roof eave They stuck me in the only chair they had while they cooked cassava And a luckless hen They asked for one well three lanterns and 200 litres of fuel and I said, "Who, me?" And the time for planting's coming soon And the thought of you comes on like the feel of the coming rains In the town neon flickers in the ruins Seven crows swoop past the luscious moon If I had wings like those there'd be no waiting I'd come panting to your door and slide like smoke into your room All day the mountains rose behind a veil of smoke from burning fields And road dust dyeing black skin bronze and the road rolling like a rough sea It's quiet now, just crickets and a dog fight somewhere in the far away In my heart I hold your photograph And the thought of you comes on like the feel of the coming rains And the time for planting's coming soon And the thought of you comes on like the feel of the coming rains