When the wagons leave the city For the forest, and further on Painted wagons of the morning Dusty roads where they have gone Sometimes travelling through the darkness Met the summer coming home Fallen faces by the wayside Looked as if they might have known O the sun was in their eyes And the desert that dries In the country towns Where the laughter sounds O the dancing and the singing O the music when they played O the fires that they started O the girls with no regret Sometimes they found it Sometimes they kept it Often lost it on the way Fought each other to possess it Sometimes died in sight of day