"Early Morning Rain" on the victrola softly spinning,
old books and gin laying around,
Winter seems to be a new beginning,
a spark of hope along the ground.
Your voice has taken me on freight trains,
across great lakes and little towns,
Over the earth on jet planes,
a plaintive plea to be found.
I felt my old soul crumbling,
desperate for a friend,
Then in you came with clumsy stumbling,
simple songs beautifully penned.