The moon beamed down so lightly, on distant fields of clover. The gypsy cowboy wanders, because he knows it's over. And everything's so quiet. The town is down in slumber. His cowboy lady mutters, let's roll another number. Oh, oh so sad The trouble that's in this old world, it makes me so sad. Oh, oh so sad, Mama cried. And o'er the field of clover, an angel band was singing. With maidens throwing roses, and heaven's lights were screaming Calling through the darkness, the voice of one man's brother Spouting discontentment, of one way or the other. Oh, oh so sad You build it up you tear it down Oh it makes me so sad Oh, oh so sad Mama cried
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Top songs from New Riders of The Purple Sage
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