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作词 : Wheeler |
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How can there be trouble in this world |
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With the color in these hills the blue October sky |
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This little road that winds along the river |
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Dusty barns and tractors in the fields |
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And families sit in front yards or stand outside the churches |
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Kids are throwing footballs and pulling carts of pumpkins |
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And the morning sun is sparkling on the water |
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How can there be such trouble in this world |
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Where the mountains roll so gently |
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Deer graze on the hillsides birds chat on the phone lines |
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The whole wide world's a prayer for Sunday morning |
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The geese inspect the stubble in the fields |
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And all along the roadside families stop to wonder |
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At the new October morning |
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And a red tailed hawk is circling |
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And a father hugs his daughter |
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And an old man holds the car door for his wife to come and see |
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Then they turn and smile at me |
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I know of course I know that this is not the only picture |
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I don't of course I don't know what to do |
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But the road keeps winding through the afternoon |
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And it doesn't know the sorrow or an inkling of the shadow |
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Of the rage across the water the hatred and the horror |
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It just wanders through this valley with the river by its side |
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As the light fades from the sky |
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The beautiful light fades from the sky |
