From the recording The Ruins of Our Age

In cart Not available Out of stock


The Only Show in Town
(C) 1980 Michael R. J. Roth

Shadows like antelope,
sparrow-song piccolos,
raven-cry rags on the breeze.
We'll ride through the canyons
and hide in a mansion
of cactus and cottonwood trees.

My dreams have been crowded,
torn up, and re-rerouted,
been driven from mountain to sea.
And now they surround me,
I'm het up and rowdy,
but this time, my lady, for thee.

So lie down,
come lie down.
We're the only show in town.
And light up, my movie queen.
Move me through
that famous scene.

Some say the mountains
enfold us like a woman,
some say the land makes us roam.
But your tender moan dims
the cry of Llorona.
Wherever I'm with you, I'm home.

Brave men would die
for a land like a pharaoh's,
dry up with the dust of the kings.
My land is so empty
that thirst for you tempts me
to swear you provide me all things.


Sunset burns up
all the dust and adobe;
the townspeople litter the street.
Some will go home to a fire of their own
while the wind carries off what it needs.