Indian Summer
Chris Whitley
summer is lost now
the frost is closing in
to the cold gospel dollar
the poor man walks in sin
I can't get no entrance
the doors all in rows
I pray into the distance
let me outta these heavy clothes
I beg
Indian summer I need some return
so hard to get warm now
and so easy to get burned
down on the pavement the laws are learned
it's so hard to get warm where
it's so easy to get burned
when a sister called up
and said that love had broken down
I said there too much ice around here
to find no solid ground
well I just squeezed a season
from this paper bag
I pray to the burning tires
wrap my feet in rags
begging
Indian summer I need some return
it's so hard to get warm now
and so easy to get burned
down on the pavement the laws are learned
it's so hard to get warm where
it's so easy to get burned
now the sky is empty
the street is sweating tears
communion at the station
for a million grinding gears
well I'm riding out this century
the harvest engines sing
from the church of mercenaries
to a naked virgin spring
I'm singing
Indian summer I need some return
it's so hard to get warm now
and so easy to get burned
down on the pavement the laws are learned
it's so hard to get warm where
it's so easy to get burned
hard to get warm where
it's so easy to get burned
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