In the blue frozen morning
Of the Valentine’s Day Parade
Twenty striking firemen went walking
Out on the engine 85 brigade
After 3 weeks with no contract
That’s 3 weeks with no pay
I saw smoke out on the horizon
But heard no sirens go that way
In the outskirt wooden buildings
The winds only fed the flames
And 3 people died by the evening
And people looked for someone to blame
Sitting in the station barroom
We watched the news of that event
From what I’ve tasted of bitterness
3 dollars is rarely better spent
In the burned-over district
I guess some things were won
for some it’s something to remember
for most you don’t say nothin
And in the psychic-silo highways
Or the glacial lakes across your brain
A dusty brass door-knocker echoes
When you hear your lover’s name
There’s still a few lonesome places
With no patron saints assigned
but there’s Ethan Allen for the bedroom
And Joseph Smith for the mind
And when that final deal went down
The whole town walked out onto the ice
And for the first time that season
You could’ve walked clear to the other side
And for the first time that season
You could’ve walked clear to the other side
