French King

Driving home on the Mohawk Trail last night
My mind aimless as the dry leaves in my headlights
When I saw a state trooper running out onto the French King Bridge
Flashlight sweeping the darkness over the edge
On a fair day you can see the Green Mountains turn blue
Standing on the French King watching the river roll through
But on a moonless night the black wind howls and moans
And the river moves like a serpent a hundred feet below
Roll on river
Restless for the sea
Take this valley wash it clean
Who can say where a soul will find peace
Who will keep the river from the sea
I thought of a shepherd, his flock bedded down for the night
And the eyes of the wolves, moving just beyond the fire light
And my own little child asleep in his bed
As I drove on into the darkness up ahead