Come home, girl, on a fractious day to the gravel road lined with fern. And I'll know (for my feet will have turned that way) that you've come home, girl, on a fractious day. Slip sibilant over the fields, so they will shimmer a moment, and burn with a feeling not unlike a fractious day on a gravel road lined with fern. I'll find you, boy, like an early snow on a field of uncut hay. God, I've missed the hay-smelling autumn, so I'll find you there, like an early snow from a stonewalled riverside town - so you'll know that I cannot stay, I cannot stay. If you'll wait for me, boy, like an early snow, in a field of uncut hay.