[Intro | Wind, one fingerpicked guitar, distant hawk cry] [Verse 1 | 1A soft croon] There's an old man with a clicker and a thermos and a grin On the granite at the overlook where the wind comes rushing in He said Evelyn would've loved this, and he didn't say much more Just that they kettle up like woodsmoke from a cabin's open door [Chorus | Falsetto stacks] A kettle of hawks going south, going south I'm counting them all with your name in my mouth Every bird is a day, every day is a wing And they all come back north in the spring [Verse 2] He said, broad-wings ride the thermals and they hardly flap at all Just lean upon the warm air like a shoulder on a wall And counting is a kind of prayer that anybody learns You just keep a little number while the whole wide sky turns [Bridge | Whispered counting, guitar harmonics] One for the morning, two for the mile Three for the coffee, four for the aisle Five for the ridges, six for the blue Seven for the leaving, eight for coming through Nine for Evelyn, and amen (ten) Ten. [Final Chorus | Voice cracks, then steadies] A kettle of hawks going south, going south I'm counting them all with your name in my mouth Every bird is a day, every day is a wing And they all come back north in the spring (they all come back) [Outro | Wind]
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