<Iron & Wine> page <The Shepherd's Dog> album page |
Wolves (Song Of The Shepherd's Dog)Wolves by the roadAnd a bike wheel spinning on a pawn shop wall She'll wring out her colored hair Like a butterfly beaten in a summer rainfall And then roll on the kitchen floor Of some fucker with a pocketful of foreign change The song of the shepherd's dog A ditch in the dark in the ear of the lamb Who's going to try to run away Whoever got that brave? Wolves in the middle of town And the chapel bell ringing through the windblown trees She'll wave to the butcher's boy With the parking lot music everybody believes And then dive like a dying bird At any dude with a dollar at the penny arcade The song of the shepherd's dog The waiter and the check or the rooster On a rooftop waiting for day And you know what he's going to say Wolves at the end of the bed And a postcard hidden in her winter clothes She'll weep in the back of a truck To the traitors only trying to find her bullet hole And then run down a canopy road To some mother and a baby with a cross to bear The song of the shepherd’s dog A little brown flea in the bottle of oil For your wool, wild hair You'll never get him out of there |