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You've long been on the open road and sleeping in the rain, |
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from dirty words and muddy cells, your clothes are soiled and stained. |
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But the dirty words and muddy cells will soon be judged insane. |
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So only stop and rest yourself, and you'll be off again. |
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Oh, take off your thirsty boots and stay for awhile. |
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Your feet are hot and weary from the dusty miles. |
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And maybe I can make you laugh and maybe I can try. |
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Just looking for the evening and the morning in your eyes. |
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|
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Then tell me of the ones you saw as far as you could see, |
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across the plains from field to town, marching to be free. |
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And of the rusted prison gates that tumble by debris, |
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like laughing children, one by one, they look like you and me. |
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Oh, take off your thirsty boots and stay for awhile. |
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Your feet are hot and weary from the dusty miles. |
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And maybe I can make you laugh and maybe I can try. |
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Just looking for the evening and the morning in your eyes. |
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|
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I know you are no stranger, now, to crooked rainbow trails, |
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from dancing cliffheads to shattered sills to slander shackled jails. |
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Where the voices drift up from below, his walls are being scaled. |
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Yes all of this, and more my friend, your song shall not be failed. |
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Oh, take off your thirsty boots and stay for awhile. |
|
Your feet are hot and weary from the dusty miles. |
|
And maybe I can make you laugh and maybe I can try. |
|
Just looking for the evening and the morning in your eyes. |
|
Take off your thirsty boots and stay for awhile. |
|
Your feet are hot and weary from the dusty miles. |
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And maybe I can make you laugh and maybe I can try. |
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Just looking for the evening and the morning in your eyes. |
