Shifting Whispering Sands

I discovered the valley of the shifting whispering sands

While prospecting for gold in one of our western states

I saw the silent windmills the crumbling water tanks

The bones of cattle and burroughs picked clean by buzzards

Bleached by the desert sun

I stumbled over a crumbling buckboard nearly covered by the sands

And stopping to rest I heard a tinkling whispering sound

And suddenly realised that even though the wind was quiet the sand did not lie still

I seemed to be surrounded by a mystery so heavy and oppressive

I could scarcely breath

For days and weeks I wandered aimlessly in this valley

Seeking answers to the many questions that raced through my fevered mind

Where was everyone why the white bones the dry wells

The barren valley where people must have lived and died

Finally I could go no farther my food and water gone

I sat down and buried my face in my hands and resting thus

I learnt the secret of the shifting whispering sands

How I escaped from the valley I do not know

But now to pay my final debt for being spared

I must tell you what I learned out there on the desert so many years ago

(When the day is oddly quiet and the breeze seems not to blow

One would think the sand was resting but you'll find this is not so

It is whisp'ring softly whisp'ring as it slowly moves along

And for those who stop and listen it will sing this mournful song

Of sidewinders and the horntoes of the Thorny Chaparral

In the sunny days and moonlight nights the coyote's lonely yell

How the stars seem you could touch them as you lay and gaze on high

At the Heavens where we're hoping we'll be going when we die)

Yes it always whispers to me of the days of long ago

When the settlers and the miners fought the crafty Navaho

How the cattle roamed the valley happy people worked the land

And now everything is covered by the shifting whispering sands

How the miner left his buckboard went to work his claim that day

And the burroughs broke their halters when they thought he'd gone to stay

Wandered far in search of water on to Old Sidewinder's Well

And there their bones picked clean by buzzards that were circling when they fell

(How they found the aged miner lying dead upon the sand

After months they could but wonder if he died by human hand

So they dug his grave and laid him on his back and crossed his hands

And his secret still is hidden by the shifting whispering sands)

This is what they whispered to me on the quiet desert air

Of the people, and the cattle and the miner lying there

If you want to learn their secret wander through this quiet land

And I'm sure you'll hear the story of the shifting, whispering sands

(Of the shifting whispering sands)