Ranchos speedway night moves slow
See the swallows flying low
Traveling light in a holy flock
Silk clad lady so statuesque
Walked beside her with feather steps
Woodsmoke in her poncho
No fear in her emerald eyes
At the golden hour gathering flowers
The yellow Spanish roses she prized
On the windowsill dying and dry
Brown-eyed Susan don't cry no tears
Ox-blood river ford it here
Woodsmoke in her poncho
No fear in her emerald eyes
At the golden hour gathering flowers
The yellow Spanish roses she prized
On the windowsill dying and dry
Swallows crossed the sea for her emerald eyes