Creeping down the roads of never ever-
A tumble weed blows 'cross the plain...
Up and down-then round and round-
Wonderin' if its you once again! ;
You have this rootless way about ya...
And its sneaky as devious can be-
So glad that the suns finally shinin'...
'Cause you might a' been the death of me;
They say that they don't come much meaner-
And that you enjoy dishin' the pain...!
But always 'neath a mask of make believe...
You are blowin' in the wind once again;
Your true colours are startin' to show tumble weed-
And more and more cow pokes agree-
That a rootless old tumble weed-blowin' with speed-
Is at last loosin' his ability-to clearly see;
Your a fool with evil-hate filled intentions...
Blowin' cross the plains all alone-
In the dust of yesterdays heartache-
Soon-you'll be-just rotted old bone! ;
Dedicated to: Rick and Carolyn D.