Silhouettes conceal the setting sun
Fool on a hillside heard by none
Am I lonesome?
You know that I am.
Am I lonesome?
You know that I am
Malady of mind makes me efface
Watching them pick nightshade at the base
Am I lonesome?
You know that I am.
Am I lonesome?
You know that I am.
There they pick nightshade
All while their days fade
There they pick nightshade
Follow a charade
There they pick nightshade
Nightshade
Nightshade
Nightshade

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