Look at all my things out in the yard
Not many things, but the moving was hard
It took a man on the run
For a moving like that

A man on the run grows tired
Of all the loving he asked for

Over the graves on the fourth of July
Riders on horses under national lights
A band that kept playing the very same notes

That was the fourth of July
Things like that now just won't fly

Put on your stockings
Put on your shoes
Put on your makeup
Put on your blues
Put on your dress

You wore when you knew there was nothing to say
And all my words just got in the way

Out of good graces into the rain
The books and the pictures into the rain
I prayed for summer
I got a cold spring

Summer's a long way away to be left without no place to stay