(S.P Standley/David Munyon)
(from the prayers of Lee Clayton)

I remember the feel of the falcon
As we embraced a northern crosswind
Grabbin' the wheel
You can imagine the reins of a wagon
Horses with that look like men
When fixin' to steel
Me on the edge of crazy
Back on the edge of faith
"Nobody wants any money - sure''
I hope we're not too late
To be found painting this Poet Wind
Smiling like a punk again
Do you feel. do you feel this Poet Wind

When the sun comes off the river
And the gold ya left in Denver
Is callin' ya home
You can imagine the face of a woman
Resting in the hands of her lover
"Plenty of gold''
Me on the side of lonely
Looking for a faster track
"Still tryin to pawn your SONY''
Never looking back
On the run chasing this Poet Wind
Smiling like a punk again
Do you feel, Do you feel this Poet Wind

I was a writer watching the sky
Life is so hard, why do we try
Dodging your love
So you'd love me some more
Why are you lifting your rusty sword
I have no love now, l am still sad
Make all the fun you want of me now
One day the promise you see
Can't be made Everyone's on every drug
Man ever made

I remember as a child at Macy's
There in New York City
A big parade There In 1958
Fords were cheap, and every week
We'd go to the game
Yogi Berra and Roger Marris
Baseball cards an' gum
Now l'm old and sober
Oldtimer on the run
Singing of this Poet Wind
Smiling like a punk again
Do you feel Do you feel this Poet Wind

David Munyon: vocal guitar
Hrolfur Vagnsson: accordion
Mike Silver: harmony vocals
Hans-Jörg Maucksch: bass