by B.R. Hornsby)



Hey now, where are you going

Where are you going to my friend

Said I'm going out to find

The pastures of plenty

I believe that they're out there somewhere



Did you hear about the girl

Alone in the world

Thought she was losing her mind

She found it in the discarded refuse pile

Down near the railroad line

A book of sonnets torn and tattered

A few remained intact

One held the key, she said to me

To getting some feeling back



Sometimes my head turns round and round

Sometimes you talk, but I can't hear a sound

Sometimes I look down, find my feet off the ground

I feel that I'm somewhere else bound



Hey now, where are you going

Where are you going to my friend

Said I'm going out to find

The pastures of plenty

I believe that they're out there somewhere



She looked down the railroad track

Lined with trees on each side

She prayed for the strength to run to the boxcar

To pull herself up for a ride

You invite me to your house - you're so sincere

We sit so close for a while

You reach out for me in the low light so clear

But you look like you're frowning when you smile



Hanging around just to see what could happen

Hanging on by oh, the thinnest thread

Sometimes I feel the faintest glimpse

Sometimes I feel I'd be better off in bed



Hey now, where are you going

Where are you going to my friend

Said I'm going out to find

The pastures of plenty

I believe that they're out there somewhere