Rod McKuen - The Far West | Текст песни

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• Rod McKuen
• The Far West

And now the tumbleweed
is rolling down the plain
chased down the dunes by dust
that’s never known the rain.

It runs as frightened as a rabbit
to its distant lair
down the diamond desert
only God knows where.

Above the hills
the clouds wait silently
as if they knew some secret
not yet part of me.

In the far west... my home.

And as the afternoon gives up the summer sun
the shadows lengthen slowly, one by one
a million colors dart and dance and die
across the sky
an eager evening bids the dying day goodbye.

A man could live alone and never think it wrong
if the November wind didn’t sing such lonesome songs.

In the far west... my home.

And now the rain begins
and as it starts to fall
a silence like the breath of God
comes down and covers all.

It’s the last day of the year
no more fences left to clear
not another hill to climb
there just isn’t any time.

With cold December just a frown away
the tall trees lift their weary arms to pray.

In the far west... my home.

I always thought that I’d die in my own bed
surrounded by the memories of the life I’d led
not mourned by many, but by just a chosen few
the few who understood the things I tried so hard to do.

Now I’m dying all alone
now I’m dying all alone
now I’m dying all alone
with the November wind singing
in the far west... my home.

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