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
And 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