Sundays - Folk Song lyrics

Summer sky and a throat bone dry And the fields are all gold Dusty lane with a song in my brain And it stoned me to my soul I climb higher move towards the fire.....blaze sun Silver trees and a whispering breeze Are my sight and my sound The thought of heaven couldn't drag me from the path When i'm wandering here alone I climb higher move towards the fire.... so blaze sun Watch until it dies slow falling from the sky Pale fading sun