Somehow I forget every time;
These things you've given me
They always will stay
They're broken... but I'll never throw them away
...these are Sunshine's goats. beautiful animals, they seem so clever, almost tricky
...this one reminds me of coming home from school and watching
"The Flying Nun" everyday.
Martha had goats too...
I use to visit Martha, she lived on many acres in Bowser and
she had many goats. She was in her eighties, out digging in her vast garden,
herding her goats, tending her chickens, chopping her wood. I can't describe her
place, nor her, but it was so complete, "quality without a name".
Her beautiful old sheds and outbuildings, turned silver with age, dancing like.,
her knarly old fruit trees breathing heavy, the soil in her garden
you could smell the richness from the highway. And Martha, silver too, like
the wood, her eyes still bright and filled with want.
I heard from Sunshine that Martha is in a home now.
It seems so wrong, so sad, Martha should be on her land, she should
have died there on her land,in her garden, with her goats.
Maybe when our story's over
We'll go where it's always spring
The band is playing our song again
And all the world is green