Hatfield
Wide awake in San Diego Smallest root shrinking dry The fish are swimming closer inside Lake Marena Still get no rain from the sky Men were firing cannons Hoping smoke might tear an angel's eyes Heard the stories of shooting arrows Tearin' open the clouds But indians shoot the best, man The indians they don't like us, much
Hatfield You made rain for L.A. We've got ten grand For you to go cook us some rain
Science from the cooking pot mixing up with the air Feeling thunder Nights since they have started Now the clouds won't stay apart A little California voodoo Killed Hatfield and his brother
Now the horses won't race where the town's turned to mud Streams and rivers are growing And my boots are filling up Letters from back this way (?) Look at them smiling, cooking and smiling
Hatfield Made rain for L.A. Well, "Hot damn", People swear with one walk in this rain
Families on porches The children are smiling The owners are mad, owners are crying Still the eyes of the children, wide open Wide, wide
Well, the blue light is rolling in between the clouds Feeling of wonder Some water drying up, some sinking down
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