Waltz From Rawlins
Before we became so adult
We were happily roaming
Followed the Andreas fault
East to Wyoming
The ghost towns were calling
We pulled off in Rawlings
With beaches of rust
And tarantulas crawling
We learned about trust
From timberframes falling
Down into the dust
Of the ghost town of Rawlings
But the homestead will stand fast
While many a sandblast
Will polish your face
To a red, ruddy shine
In Rawlings, my darling
Your crosscountry kindness
Did just the same for mine
We followed the frontage road east
Deeper into the valley
Where an ancient mechanical beast
Was beached in an alley
Some homesteader’s treasure
Both precious and hostile
Reared in the gesture
Of a plaintive apostle
The dinosaur thresher
Has turned to a fossil
A century’s pressure
Makes the fiercest gears docile
But the homestead will stand fast
While many a sandblast
Will polish your face
To a red, ruddy shine
In Rawlings my darling
Your crosscountry kindness
Did just the same for mine.
We paused for a moment and kissed
By the railway platform
The horizon a gathering fist
Of a glorious dust-storm
By the rail for supplies
And goods from the salt mine
That split the west lengthwise
Like a manifest fault-line
Dry tufts of crabgrass
And tumbleweed beasts
Can’t suffer the sandblasts
Of the continent’s crease
So it’s three days straight
With the sun setting straight
At our backs, heading straight
For the east, for the east
It’s three days straight
With the sun setting straight
At our backs in the rearview
A red, ruddy shine
In Rawlings my darling
Your crosscountry kindness
Did just the same for mine.