Chorus: It always seemed so temporary,
The daffodils appearing without effort
Beside the winter streets, the golden light
Of February, . . . on a beach.

The winter loomed, a wave, beyond Sierras;
The shadow overhead, but never breaking,
And finally, in March, we headed East,
Back to a land of no illusions, and big winds.

Repeat chorus

Some friends of ours went way down to the Keys,
Scuffing sandy streets and peering into bars,
And on their backs, twisting in wet heat, guitars,
And bobbing sailboats like a parking lot of cars.

Repeat chorus

We struck the other way, to fat Chicago,
We picked up all the work that we could stand:
Shouts and whistles, accordions, bazoukis,
The Hawk circling the Loop and out across Lake Michigan

Repeat chorus

And somewhere along the path to south of nowhere
My vehemence evaporated with the dew;
I'm beating gold to earrings: tiny ancient signs,
For empty ears uninterested in tunes,
Transporting hidden meanings as they jangle,
Of the foretold Anazasi Paradise:
It's shrieking towards us all with each small tapping,
A great wind behind a redrock canyon wall.

Repeat chorus