Mule

The sun out on the water now seems only there for show
I can feel the arrow of it's light and find it's bow
It's leveled at horizons growing, dim is all I know
Speaking with a silence deep as sound

But they dress mules and feathers and parade them down the street
With hats as tall as chimney pipe and bells about their feet
Like plowing on a Sunday to cede higher ground
And singing with a silence deep as sound

Even come election day, they still get out the mail
Letters from the dying and the brides up in the jail
They all want four flowers to be littered on their train
Trampled beauty, how we know our kind

Well I can't read this valley or the winding of its way
The climbing roads give over to the falling of each day
But shadows lead us onward where the dark is still in play
And holding us with a silence deep as sound

The shadows lead us onward where the dark is still in play
And holding us with a silence deep as sound