david lessard (september fourteenth, nineteen forty-one / gardner, massachusetts)

Ridng, through the trees of Echo Valley,
Tired horse, empty guns, got a bundle to carry -
Riding, though the trees...
Hear them, can't you hear them coyotes howling?
Mournful cries, lonesome sighs, like a loved thing dying.

I'm so far away from home, the days, they all get longer,
Now, I've nowhere else to roam and the heartache's getting stronger;
just one more thought of you and I'll lay this body down,
Your face will break on through and I'll turn myself around.

Sleeping, in the sands of Echo Valley,
Tired man, tired hands, dreams of you there before me -
Drifting, in the land of dim-lit shadows,
Sandman comes, closes eyes and I'm set free,

Dying, in the depths of Echo Valley,
Broken heart, fell apart, just a body dying;
Hear them, can't you hear them coyotes howling?
Mournful cries, lonesome sighs...is that someone I hear crying?