Saturday afternoon the sunshine pours like winethrough your window

But I know golden June can turn an empty gray against your window

And I feel like I'm on the outside of a circle -

If I walk by the trees I'll catch the falling leaves if the wind blows

But I know all this means is whiling on the hours watching side-shows

Will I turn my coat to the rain I don't know

But I'm going somewhere I can warm my bones

Fare you well I'll carry me away

and sing for those I know upon their birthdays.