Tekster: Greg Brown. The Evening Call. Coneville Slough.

We came out of the country and drove into the cityscape -
Like every other one in America, it's a black and white town.
You were sitting beside me, neither of us in good shape,
Leaning on one another and coming back down.

We had walked miles along Cape Cod, I was right behind you
Watching your hips move, and the cloudy sky -
The ocean was cold, by God, you were stiff and your lips were blue.
It ain't hard to find the groove when you don't have to try.

Truck parked by the Yellow Dog, I had gone way upstream,
You sat in your lawn chair, so sad and alone,
And I recall how your eyes would fog when you went deep into your dream.
You and the sky were both bare, down to the bone.

I'm a shy exhibitionist standing by a window,
Thinking about a woman from Boston town,
How she danced in a slow twist, how wide her arms would go,
When the city night was coming in, and the sun going down.

You can walk down the avenue with your coat all around you
And all the phantoms glowing just as bright as can be,
Yeah, but what really gets through to you, where is the one who found you
When everything was showing on the day you felt free.

I was just wondering where the wild swans gather
And if you ever stand in their glory like we did that day
When the sky was thundering and we were all the way together
In the middle of a big story that doesn't fade away