Driven through by her own sword
Summer died last night, alone
Even the ghosts
Huddled up for warmth
Autumn has come to my hometown

Friendly voices, dead and gone
Singing, Star of the country down
(Even the ghosts help raise the barn
Here, now, in my hometown)

When, out of the massing that bodes and bides
in the cold west
Flew a waxwing, who froze
And died against my breast
And all the while, rain
Like a weed in the tide
Swans and lists
Down on the gossiping lawns
Saying tsk tsk tsk

I may have changed
It's hard to gauge
Time won't account for how I've aged
Would I could tie your lying tongue
Who says that leaving keeps you young

And I have got no control
Over my heart, over my mind
Over the hills
the rainclouds roll
I'll winter here, wait for a sign

To cast myself out over the water
Riven like a wishbone
You'd hardly guess
I was my own mother's daughter
I ain't naturally given to roam
And I lay low, when I return
And I move like a gurney
Whose wheels are squeaking

Alone, here in my home
And I laugh when you speak of my pleasure-seeking

Among the tall pines
Along the ley-lines
Here, where the loon keens
There, where the moon leans
There where I know my violent love lays
Down in a row of silent, dove-gray days
Here, in a row of silent, dove-gray days

Wherever I go, I am snowbound
By thoughts of him
Whom I would sun
I loved them all
One by one
Cannot gain ground
Cannot outrun
But time marches along
You can't always stick around
But, when the final count is done
I will be in my hometown
I will be in my hometown

Copyright: ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING
Writer(s): Joanna Newsom