25 February 2013
This western town is empty The population has gone down The cowboys aren't too happy They all seem to frown
The tumbleweed is moving Towards the northern hills There's not a single drop to drink The sun's dried up the mills
The population is dwindling Soon there will be none Who will save the day? Before they're all done
The population - sparse - When will more return? When will Indians leave us? When will they learn?
My children and my husband Our horse and our cart Will never save us from this drought When will the rain start?
I wish to mend my broken heart
Western Town • Opuss № I