Before The Last Tree Cry's

She stares out the back door of the place she calls home
Her dog is in the yard burying or digging up a bone
The sun is slipping down behind the mountains in view
While off road vehicles race home hoping for a Bar-B-Q
Folks come alive when the sun goes down
Triple digits will do this at least in this town
She kicks back in her hammock with her dog staying near
And sees the ashes the wind carries with someone else's tears
If only she could lasso every single rain cloud from the skies
She'd put out these relentless fires before the last tree cry's