Oh Carbine Cows Come Home

There's a haze out in the meadow before the cattle graze,
settled slow and clean and shining like a glaze, 

the cattle move on in as the dew begins to dry,
the haze clears up fast like a tear in the eye.

don't go running out now, past the blood red barn,
the cattle's gone a-grazing now that it's the morn.

don't go running out now, past that hornéd fence,
the sun's still out-a-shining and the days still present-tense.

don't go running out now, past that old grey door,
the night is still arriving, you must wait a little more.

don't go running out now, till the horizon's turned all chrome,
the moon is out-a-shining and all the carbine-colored cows come home.