Wagon Train 
    (Difford/Tilbrook) 
     
      There’s smoke in the hills 
      And prints on the path 
      The moon dangles down on the hyena’s laugh 
      And there are riders with guns by their sides 
      The wagon train’s full of women and hides 
      The men drink and smoke to help pass the time 
      Men have their thoughts and plans to decide 
      And the dust brings the thirst to the mouths open wide 

      The wagon train leaves the hills 
      As the gold hits the fever 
      The wagon train tips the scales 
      Wagon train you can keep her 

      There’s gold in them hills 
      It’s treasure to claim 
      A ghost in the hillside calls out my name 
      In the wind a roar as the tumbleweed tumbles 
      The rocks cast a shadow where the horses have stumbled 
      And we light up a flame as the sky above rumbles 
      Like the bellies that feast on a meal that is humble 
      And the rain slashing down as I shave off my stubble 

      There’s arrows that fly 
      As guns start to shoot 
      There’s mud in your eye and stones in your boot 
      With wagons on fire and women left screaming 
      Some left for dead and others left bleeding 
      There’s nothing left now and nothing worth keeping 
      The treasure was trapped and sprung when in sleeping 
      Not even the wind from the rocks is left breathing

      (c) 1984 Virgin Music Inc. (ASCAP)


  • FROM THE ALBUM: Difford & Tilbrook.