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When the wagons leave the city for the forest and further on Painted wagons of the morning, dusty roads where they have gone Sometimes travellin' 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 the country towns, where their laughter sounds
Oh the dancing and the singing and the music when they played Oh the fire that they started along the trail with no regrets Sometimes they found it, sometimes they kept it Often lost it along the way Fought each other to possess it, sometimes blind to the light of day
Oh the sun was in their eyes, and the desert was dry In the country towns, where their laughter sounds