Bruce Rowland Follow

Painted wagon of the morning, dusty roads, well, they have gone
Sometimes traveling through the darkness made the summer coming home
Fallen faces by the wayside looked as if they might have known

Oh, the sun was in their eyes and the desert that dried
In the country town where the laughter sounds

Oh, the dancing and the singing, oh, the music when they played
Oh, the fires that they started, oh, the girl with no regret
Sometime they found it, sometime they kept it, often lost it on the way
Fought each other to possess it, sometimes died in sight of day

Oh, the sun was in their eyes and the desert that dried
In the country town where the laughter sounds

Painted wagon of the morning, dusty roads, well, they have gone
Sometimes traveling through the darkness made the summer coming home