Ian Hunter Follow

Waiting on an elevator - in a hotel out in California
Smog clouds up in the windows - but there is a plaque up on the wall
That tells of the Agoras - people who were here long before us
Before the covered wagons - before they lost it all

They were hunters - they were fishermen und they often fought each other
But one small tribe was different - their leader was a peaceful man
They were weavers - they were painters - trading pelts for pretty colours
Protected by the warriors for the beauty in their hands
Roll back the years - roll back the years - to the river of tears

The chief he had a daughter - she was young and she was beautiful
He said, "Go into the forest - get some berries for the dye
But make your way back quickly - for the old bear's getting hungry
I don't want you out there - when the sun falls from the sky"

Her basket filled with berries - she headed back toward the village
When a mighty roar erupted - she ran und hid inside a hollow tree
Shadows were getting longer - the forest was getting colder
And the chief began to panic - where could his daughter be?
Lost in the years - lost in the years - on the river of tears

In the camp the fires were dying when the old chief started crying
Soon all the tribe were crying - the ground grew wet beneath their feet
And the tears they turned to water and the water became a river
And the river flowed like an arrow - to the foot of a hollow tree

And the girl looked out in wonder - as she saw the water falling
She knew it was her father and she swam to his canoe
And all the tribe stopped crying - and the river started subsiding
Into the hill of the Agoras - and so the legend grew
Roll back the years - roll back the years
Roll back the years - to the river of tears
I wish all the world was healing