I should have known the reason that trees died
in streets this man passed by, their leaves just fell
and clouds went darker, where ever he would dwell
while thunderstorms would put him in white light.
I should have known this season was alright
for him to spread on earth his sulphur smell.
While black crows flew across the old dry well,
a sudden silence came into the night.
The man had gone, now what was it he took
from our small village? No one dared to look.
I should have known: from then on, we knew freight.