Back of the woods with the fire blowing
behind the barn burning slowly
set the fire, set the timber
burn it down to ash and cinder.
Turn me on dead man.
You turn me on.
Back of the house, down the steps
under the cellar door we crept
prop the doors, prop the windows
set a match to scarecrow tinder.
Turn me on dead man.
You turn me on.
Out of my head, out of my tree,
out of my skull-trip, out of me.
Burn down the house, burn down the barn
burning down the entire farm
cross the fields’ fallow garden
watch the scarecrow, forever autumn.
Turn me on dead man.
You turn me on.
Will we done, we’ll keep our bargain
you and I forever autumn.
Turn me on dead man.
You turn me on.