I stand in the moonlight
breathing the fog of midlight
panting and sighing against the grain
of autumnís pretwilight rain.
Iíve crossed this creek before,
muddied my boots and more
under the red skies of twilight.

Do not ask me to tell my tale
for in it only my heart wails
as does steel cutting against the grain
of autumnís preharvest grain
Donít follow me through this door
Donít follow me to my distant shore
Hiding the red skies of twilight.

Instead, tell me of your moon
that breaths the fog of midlight
harboring emeralds and rubies
of autumnís pretwilight rain.
The mud here is deep and wide
Fallen branches bridge the other side
Joining the red skies of twilight

Iím singing burdened songs
Tragic love, glorious war, tears of midnight
Falling like lead for vainglorious dead
in autumnís pretwilight rain.
In your eyes a shielded pain
and a smile that rejects illusions
illumined by red skies of twilight.

You sing, how I love your voice...
Your song, I love your choice of song
that takes me along to your dreams.
In autumnís pretwilight grain
We sing and mourn for love,
aching and breaking love
Shared with the red skies of twilight.

Now then, we dream too soon
of the halos of stillborn harvest moon
that watches us like a raven
stealing autumnís preharvest grain.
Itís quicksilver feathers take flight
alone, alone, but warmed in the night
by the red skies of twilight.

You still seek to follow me
You still desire secrets unknown,
unknown to me and hidden
among autumnís preharvest grain.
Tis no secrets, oh, my love,
that take their shelter
beneath the red skies of twilight,

For they seek your discovery
To remain secret no more
They need stay hidden in time
and fall with autumnís preharvest rain.
Follow, but do not enter,
For in time with me you will walk
with the red skies of twilight

Just tonight, one last night
let us rest, sleep and dream
and dream and dream
of autumnís golden harvests
gathered just before the dawn.
Dream in time of our midlight
parting the red skies of twilight...

Even the sun fades to black
Even the moon takes its bow
as the star curtains fall across the stage
framed by autumnís preharvest grain.
We will meet again at dawn
When liquid gold will reign
over the red skies of twilight.