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There are places tucked away from the sun and wind and rain
Where the homes are long abandoned but the spirits still remain
They say that when the moon is full and the wind lies calm
You can sense the presence of a people now a long time gone
I've seen the art that someone pecked into the varnished rock
Found the broken shards of painted vases, bowls and maybe pots
Peered through windows into rooms where children played
Stood outside the kivas where they say the people prayed . . . I don't know
And there are cabins on the prairie only cowboys know
Log ruins lost and so remote that no one ever goes
They say some family built a ranch entirely by hand
And toughed it out for quite a while till bankers took the land
I've seen the tiny shacks with the sod roof all caved in
Walked along the old corrals where the horses would have been
Kicked around the dump heap looking for some sign
That proved the ranch was something long ago in a better time . . . I don't know
And I can't help but wonder about the last of all to leave
Are they the ones whose presence lingers now for eternity?
Did they love a place so much that their memories never die?
When the moon is full and the wind lies calm is it them that I hear sigh?
One thing seems clear when you find yourself in such a lonely place
They made something out of nothing and that's damn hard to erase
So if their spirits cling awhile to these outposts time forgot
Their souls have earned the right to claim what you and I can not
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