Oh, the weather outside is smoky,
And the air is slow and pokey,
But I wish all this smoke would go—
Let winds blow, let 'em blow, let 'em blow!
Well, it doesn't show signs of clearin',
But my eyes now sure be tearin';
And the sun sure be dimmin' low—
Let winds blow, let 'em blow, let 'em blow!
When we finally leave our work,
How I hate to go out in the smoke;
As I drive my car in the murk,
All the way home I will choke!
We pray the fires are dying,
Else I know that we'll be flying
A long ways from fire's glow—
Let winds blow, let 'em blow, let 'em blow!
- D. Benning
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| The orange dot right center, above the tree, is the sun. Because of the Camp Fire, on Nov 9, 2018 |
