| There's a picture of woman, and baby her baby on my wall | |
| I don't know where they come from, and I don't know who they are | |
| A man in Texas painted them, from somewhere in his mind | |
| Now they're hanging on my wall | |
| I dream about they places where she has roamed around | |
| Of the towns and the deserts where her feet have touched the ground | |
| Of the man she has loved and the lovers she has lost | |
| There is something in her eyes that tells me to be strong | |
| And the day is drawing near, when she will draw her last breath | |
| And the angels in the heavens will rejoice and welcome her | |
| And her lovers will take her in their arms again | |
| And she will rest her weary feet in the heaven's golden sands |
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