When the mist rolls in on Highway One Like a curtain to the day A thousand silhouettes hold out their thumbs And I see them and I say You are my children My sweet children I am your poet.
With hair just like the burning tree of Moses The girl beside you is your twin Behind your fiery make-up you should know this I am your sister, I am your kin, your flesh and kin I'll write this tune In matching phrases Just to show it
You are the orphans in an age Of no tomorrows And with your walking you wage a war Against the sorrows Your fathers left you A row to hoe And you'll hoe it.
If I could write you easy directions On a list You would not read it, you could not see it For the mist Besides my pen is Very righteous And I know it.
So walk to the edges of a dying kingdom There's one more summer just around the bend The amber in your smile is brave and winsome For though your highway has no end, it never ends There is still the sky The windy cliff And the sea below it I'd take an angel's ram horn trumpet And I'd blow it I'd blow it.