When the wagons leave the city For the forest and further on Painted wagons of the morning Dusty roads where they´ve gone
Sometimes travelin´ through the darkness Met the summer comin´ home Fallen faces by the wayside Looked as if they might have known
Oh the sun was in their eyes And the desert was dry In a country town Where the map was found
Oh the dancing and the singing Oh the music that they played Oh the fire that they saw there Long ago with no regret
Sometimes they found it Sometimes they kept it Often lost it along the way Fought each other to possess it Sometimes died in sight of day
Oh the sun was in their eyes and the desert was dry In the country towns where the laughter sounds
Oh the sun was in their eyes and the desert was dry In the country towns where the laughter sounds
|