I've seen you before in a dream I had a long long time ago
I thought it was Aberdeen but it must've been cold, lonely, Cullowhee
And I can't seem to breathe, in a place where the dark is abundantly close
Sing to me, next to me, I miss our sweet, sweet home
Serpentine, spring, I felt the wind
It's part of me, the cut along your chin
Those fields of poppies, do they call to you
Those ochre brown hills, do they call to you
There's a hatch there in the room I recall from fading memory
I thought it was a real bad dream but it must've been a holy call to me
Not sure if I believe in the god of my grandfather down on his knee
But I see his light in me, heat rising from its gentle ambling
In the August heat, I run the county line
Because I really need, to kill the cold decline
Those fields of poppies, do they call to you
Those ochre brown hills, do they call to you
Those fields of poppies, do they call to you
Those ochre brown hills, do they call to you
Baby time don't pass the same I hear it fall and call my name