Riding on a mare of chestnut brown and yellow gold,
A lonely trail keeps calling me back home,
I pretend to get a feel of hickory wind: whisperings of days that passed by,
I see a grave; a lizard crawls across a desert stone,
A gathering of footsteps, keeping eye,
A world around me, all I see; no one to show me the way,
Coined a phrase from days that passed me by.

Tragic scenes of smoke-filled dreams that dim the light of day,
Gardens grow where no one knows the face behind the wall of yesterday.

Distant train, through mountain years, echoes through the past,
A memory that washes faith to fear,
A life of love can recognise the shadows of your heart: substances of days that passed me by.

Tragic scenes of smoke-filled dreams that dim the light of day,
Gardens grow where no one knows the face behind the wall of yesterday.