Turn off the radio,
and let the frogs chorus you home.

Turn off the radio;
I can tell you the news: the news is death,
it is greed, and it is hunger.
Turn off the radio. Open the windows,
and the frog-song will rise
in waves as you pass each marshy place.
Open the windows,
and breathe the woodsmoke,
banked against tonight's hard frost.
Open the windows,
and breathe the cold fresh air.
Turn off the radio.
Listen to the stars.