| Autumn on the Maine coast
|
| Maryanne was closing windows
|
| Talking to herself, yeah, she lived alone
|
| Looking on her fields now
|
| From the steps outside of her farmhouse
|
| Every year a little less eager to grow
|
| Those fields were born of a wild soul
|
| Still a fraction of a balanced whole
|
| Oh, but control belonged in
|
| The hands of the oil men now
|
| Oh, there’s a trouble comin' in
|
| It’s got my heart in a murmuring state
|
| Where must I fix my eyes to know
|
| That I’ll be here to watch it fade, to watch it fade?
|
| They were dancing in Havana
|
| Celebrating quinceañera
|
| Speaking softly 'bout the radio
|
| Some believed that they could wait it out
|
| Others felt only a growing doubt
|
| But few perceived the October storm
|
| Outside there was a rustle in the oak leaves
|
| There was a frost that was starting to heave
|
| So many more at home singing their kids to sleep
|
| Oh, there’s a trouble comin' in
|
| It’s got my heart in a murmuring state
|
| Where must I fix my eyes to know
|
| That I’ll be here to watch it fade, to watch it fade?
|
| To watch it fade?
|
| Jeffrey built a grave stone
|
| For the summer when it made known
|
| That money was gonna get tight for him
|
| It was harder than he let on
|
| But you could say that he’d been betting on
|
| A lesser horse time and again
|
| Still he remembered when his kid was born
|
| He remembered how the air was warm
|
| But most of all, he thought about the task at hand
|
| Oh, there’s a trouble comin' in
|
| It’s got my heart in a murmuring state
|
| Where must I fix my eyes to know
|
| That I’ll be here to watch it fade?
|
| Trouble coming in
|
| My heart’s in a murmuring state
|
| Trouble coming in
|
| My heart’s in a murmuring state
|
| Trouble coming in
|
| My heart’s in a murmuring state |