We set the field to fire. We set the lark to flight. The smoke fell low and even. It crowned the flames but blocked the light. And as the blazes pa**ed us, Across the columbine, The seeds laid in the ashes were Opening below the pine, Opening below the pine. You fallen, broken seed. The day returned to you. You dreamt of fire and woke to find it true. Just like the rains in winter, When the levees bear and bend, The road has got a foot of water But the fields are full again. You fallen, broken seed. The day returned to you, And shook you from your sleep, And laid the world to view. You dreamt of fire and woke to find it true.