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There was laughter spilling from the old hotel, And a church on the corner with a Sunday bell, Children chased the sunset till the daylight died, In that little desert town where hope once lived inside. Now the dust rolls softly down the empty street, Past the broken windows where the neighbours would meet, Hard times took the people, but the memories remain, Faded names and photographs still waiting for the rain. The mine closed down and the crops turned brown, One by one, the families packed and left the town, The schoolyard lost its voices, the station lost its trains, And the desert slowly covered all their dreams and all their pain. Now the dust rolls softly down the empty street, Past the broken windows where the neighbours used to meet, Hard times took the people, but the memories remain, Like faded names and photographs still waiting for the rain. There’s a rusted sign still hanging by the road, And an empty general store where the warm wind blows, But beneath the sand and silence, all the old stories lie, Of a town that lived a lifetime underneath that desert sky. Now the dust rolls softly down the empty street, Past the broken windows where the neighbours would meet, Hard times took the people, but the memories remain, Faded names and photographs still waiting for the rain.
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