You look like rain You're the hallelujah kind I'm the dust that spins and the gust of wind that's blowing by I'm a desert dry And in my thirsty eyes 'Cause I'm hell up here on the high wire You and your Sunday mornings Me and my Saturday nights You and

And the desert that´s dry In a country town Where the map was found When the wagons leave the city For the forest and further on Painted wagon of the morning Dusty roads where they've gone Sometimes travelin´ through the darkness At the summer comin´