I hear the coyotes calling
Their melancholy pierces the night
I feel those wheat fields waving
Calling me with their collective spite
I know tomorrow morning
Fate will dictate my part
But I never believed in fate
Because I know the coyote’s heart
You’re 200 miles away
On the other side of the state
And I’m going round and round in a wheat field
Trying to beat the rain
The sun goes down, it won’t matter much
We’ll keep on cutting ‘till the straw gets tough
I’ll be free when we get through
I'll head back to town and back to you
