She talked in riddles
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She talked in three dimensional
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She held my lazy head when evening light was gone
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She called the breaks
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I ploughed the lower forty when
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She called me plough boy
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Say what paddock were you on
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Summer sun when my day is done
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God help me just to shade my eyes
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Harvest moon she'll be rising soon
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God willing and the creek don't rise
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She knows I'm right
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She knows I'm so conventional
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She knows I'm cultivated furrows on my brow
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The land was mortified
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The land was indivisible
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I tell you someday we will reap what we might sow
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Don't rise
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She calls me Captain
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She knows I'm so industrious
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She fills my tea - cup when the window shades are down
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We load the pick - up
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We're making individual
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We're making all that hay while driving into town
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Don't rise
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Harvest moon she'll be rising soon
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God willing and the creek don't rise
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Don't rise
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-----------------
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Harvest Moon
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| James Reyne |
