June

## Lyrics

I must confess that I have not written often of late

And when I do, it is a clemency I give myself

For the inkwell continues to freeze

This has surely been as cold a weather as any man has known

The calendar is false. I say, is this not summer?

The east hills that overlook my property

They have all been killed by frost

The less fit plants and vegetation

Beg for mercy where there is none

I have none. I want none

Worse still, an almost perpetual rain

Confines me principally to pace the house

Where I have taken to wearing socks and coats

And gloves too big for my fingers

A steady fire has been required at all hours

Though the ice in the wood has made it difficult to chop

And heavy to carry, troublesome to drag

Copious showers have been attended

With lightening and thunder

And the road has been barren of souls for weeks

Save for a post delivery last Tuesday

Is this what we fought for?

I would have welcomed the company

Of course, but it was a parcel for Silas

The rider asked to come inside

To be spared from the crippling frost

(Go 'way, go 'way from my window)

But I set him off

I must confess that I have not written often of late

And when I do, it is a clemency I give myself

For the inkwell continues to freeze

This has surely been as cold a weather as any man has known

The calendar is false. I say, is this not summer?

The east hills that overlook my property

They have all been killed by frost

The less fit plants and vegetation

Beg for mercy where there is none

I have none. I want none

Worse still, an almost perpetual rain

Confines me principally to pace the house

Where I have taken to wearing socks and coats

And gloves too big for my fingers

A steady fire has been required at all hours

Though the ice in the wood has made it difficult to chop

And heavy to carry, troublesome to drag

Copious showers have been attended

With lightening and thunder

And the road has been barren of souls for weeks

Save for a post delivery last Tuesday

Is this what we fought for?

I would have welcomed the company

Of course, but it was a parcel for Silas

The rider asked to come inside

To be spared from the crippling frost

(Go 'way, go 'way from my window)

But I set him off

General Jacobs came to the house again

(Go 'way, go 'way from my window.)

Third time in a day

(Go 'way, go 'way from my door.)

I don't understand his ignorance

I should lie in bed and ignore the knocking

(One year, three months, twenty-four days.)

I should make him hope

That will suit him

Hope is for the weak

(No, God don't live here no more.)

Thirteenth of June, 1816

As I write this

I am convinced that the sun has taken ill to defy me

More convinced than I've ever been of anything

Nature is rot

Or are my superior wits deceived

By a fiction gnawing in my belly?

Father would say so

Now, I have taken to eating loathsome foods:

Boiled grass and udders, if I can find them

Men came from town yesterday

(Go 'way, go 'way from my window.)

"Where is your brother?

Where is your brother, Silas?"

(Go 'way, go 'way from my door.)

I gave them nothing

We stood on the porch for an hour's time

A senseless eternity

(One year, three months, twenty-six days.)

Across the field, a sickly creature limped about

I so wished to reach for my rifle

(No, God don't live here no more.)

Make quick work and eat again

Eighteenth of June, 1816

Today, Reverend Brown came

I wished to kill him to establish peace

His blood would be my own treaty

A dead bird was frozen in his hand

I bet it was God's judgment

I, too, have a rifle

No, Reverend, I will not beg, nor be humbled

Before a God who will make of me an American

(Go 'way, go way from my window.)

Yet hate me so freely for it

(Go 'way, go 'way from my door.)

Is he not a Father who does not love his kin?

Don't we all have our pacts to make?

(One year, three months, thirty-one days.)

Soak them in blood and honor them

I will not be punished by men

(No, God don't live here no more.)

Twentieth of June, 1816

So, I fear, this is summer

Lands are all but abandoned

Gone like the red sticks

Save for me

What beautiful promise this is, Silas

Silas. Silas. Silas

I will not be punished, Silas

Father, you want your son?

Take my hands then

For I will not wash his blood from them

This land is mine

Should have always been

And if summer survives

And I can find a measure of warmth

I will not bury his body, not my brother

I will let the animals gnaw on his bones

And I will send him to Hell in your Heaven, father

May you both be blessed in blood

You want punishment?

You've found it

I wish you death

Your only daughter