Killing a Crow

Something moves, then the collision

Everything follows from indecision                                    

All was lost, except for the beginning

And what people could remember

There was a sound the wind made in the ruined trees

The same in spring as in December
 Silence down in the dirt and leaves
 Something rotting beneath the eaves
 Progress brings new disease
 Where would the rats be without the fleas?
 Black dog out there, prowling around for me
 Next time we meet, will be number three
 Kill a crow
 Change the season
 But when you kill that crow

You can’t have any reason