| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
On the Trail of Love |
||
|
THEM HEAP BIG THOUGHTS
It seems to me some passin' strange, When Love rides 'cross a feller's range, He thinks of thoughts a wholesale store, Such thoughts he never thought before: Them heap big thoughts, as Injuns say, Of life an' death an' music gay, An' flags an' crowds an' flashin' things, An' then sometimes he backward springs To thoughts o' mountains big an' high, Where giants set an' watch the sky At sunset grand an' great an* still, An' all the world seems dreamin' 'til He looks around to hear this call: "You're jes' in love, my boy, that's all." |
||
|
[105] |
||