THE SETTING SUN

EIGHTY-TWO ON THE DAY SHE DIED
THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID, BUT THEY KNEW SHE LIED.
LAID HER OUT IN HER EIGHT PETITE.
LITTLE BLUE PUMPS ON HER SIZE FIVE FEET.

BY TWENTY-THREE SHE’D BEEN AROUND
A SINGLE GIRL IN A MARRIED TOWN
TAUGHT FOURTH GRADE FOR FIFTY YEARS
AND NO ONE COUNTED UP THE TEARS.

AND SOMETIMES, WHEN THE DAY WAS DONE
THE STORMS CAME AND SHE CAME UNDONE
TEARS KEPT FALLING, ONE BY ONE
AS SHE STARED OUT WEST AT THE SETTING SUN.
FORTY KIDS TIMES FIFTY SEASONS
LOTS OF QUESTIONS, NO GOOD REASONS
HOW SHE WISHED THAT SHE COULD RUN
AND CATCH A RIDE ON THE SETTING SUN.
		

HE CAME TO TOWN ON A TWO-DAY PASS
A SOLDIER LOOKING FOR A LITTLE CLASS.
TOOK HER OUT AND SHE TOOK HIM HOME
AND EVER SINCE SHE HAD BEEN ALONE.

SHE ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS COMING BACK
TIL THE DAY THEY TORE UP THE TRACK
SO SHE DID SOME THINGS THAT SHE COULDN’T TELL
TEN MILES OUT AT A CHEAP MOTEL.

AND SOMETIMES, WHEN THE DAY WAS DONE
THE STORMS CAME AND SHE CAME UNDONE
TEARS KEPT FALLING ONE-BY-ONE
AS SHE STARED OUT WEST AT THE SETTING SUN
FORTY KIDS TIMES FIFTY SEASONS
LOTS OF QUESTIONS, NO GOOD REASONS
IN THE END THE RACE WAS RUN
AND SHE CAUGHT A RIDE ON THE SETTING SUN.

© Art and Robin’s Music  (BMI)