When the wagons leave the city

for the forest, and further on

Painted wagons of the morning

dusty roads where they have gone

Sometimes travelling through the darkness

met the summer coming home

Fallen faces by the wayside

Looked as if they might have known

O the sun was in their eyes

and the desert that dries

In the country towns

where the laughter sounds



O the dancing and the singing

O the music when they played

O the fires that they started

O the girls with no regret

Sometimes they found it

Sometimes they kept it

Often lost it on the way

Fought each other to possess it

Sometimes died in sight of day