Текст песни
Perched upon the highest bar
Cornelia speaks of wind and fire
Rooster tail points east today
Storms will wash the sins away
Lightning rod and copper green
He predicts what can't be seen
Thunder speaks in ancient tongue
Of the songs that won't be sung
Spin me round and I'll divine
What the elements combine
Reading every weather sign
He's the weathervane prophet
Speaking truth from his high pocket
Every gust tells him the news
Of tomorrow's joy and blues
From his rooftop office
Fishermen seek his advice
Farmers pay his asking price, weddings
Planning, crops, to sow
Only Cornelia seems to know
Does the wind speak back to him
When the daylight's growing dim
Up so high above the town
Does he ever want to come down
He's the weathervane prophet
Reading skies from his high pocket
Every season tells its tale
Of the coming sun and hail
And in exile in this foreign affair
The storm has passed, for now
But the weathervane knows how