ARTIST'S NOTES:
The winters coziness ended abruptly as I found myself quite alone after a terrific western tour. Just before the breakup we had seen a Sam Shepard play. Something about burying someone in the backyard. The river was already threatening my infested mobile home long before the summer floods. The landlord got a little ahead of himself with some ill fated projects. Spring '93
lyrics
My wheels are spinning and my head is aching
these mud roads will be full of rocks this spring
birds fly by to sit down by the river
headed back from way down south to where they've been
CHORUS
I may be a fool for twisted pleasure
I don't want to feel your privileged pain
after you buried him in your own backyard
you just left me standing in the rain
This morning I heard shovels and a backhoe
must've been that big guy down the lane
he's fighting nature with his guns and heavy equipment
he don't stand a chance against the rain
CHORUS
Its raining from the mountains to the desert
its raining from the Great Lakes to the sea
its raining on some small town in New England
Its raining on the hills of Italy
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