(Neil Young – Silver Fiddle BMI)

Look out, Mama, there’s a white boat coming up the river,
with a big red beacon and a flag and a man on the rail.
I think you’d better call John ’cause it don’t look like
they’re here to deliver the mail.
And it’s less than a mile away. I hope they didn’t come to stay.
It’s got numbers on the side and a gun, and it’s making big waves.

Daddy’s gone, my brother’s out hunting in the mountains.
Big John’s been drinking since the river took Emmy Lou.
So the powers that be left me here to do all the thinking.
And I just turned twenty-two. I was wondering what to do.
And the closer they got, the more those feelings grew.

Daddy’s rifle in my hand felt reassuring.
He told me, Red means run, Son. Numbers add up to nothing.
But when that first shot hit the dock, I saw it coming.
Raised the rifle to my eye. Never stopped to wonder why.
Then I saw black and my face flash in the sky.

Shelter me from the powder and the finger.
Cover me with the thought that pulled the trigger.
Just think of me as one you never figured,
to fade away so young, with so much left undone.
Remember me to my love. I know I’ll miss her.

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