Oh, Buffalo Springfield, well this seems like a heavy song for a Sunday. Â But that’s okay, especially since this song is pretty fantastic and is unbelievably evocative. Â Every time I listen to it, I think of a lazy, hazy, scorch of a day, full of simmering anger. Â The one thing I DON’T like about these awesome protest songs is that they still feel relevant. Â I long for the day when songs like this will seem quaint rather than prescient. Â In the meantime, there’s a good chance that the first version of this song I ever heard was sung by a possum: