just your everyday folk song about a mist-filled valley
An autumn 1993 day in Spring Valley, Texas, gazing down into a fog that swallowed the valley below my shack porch while the world stood still and silent.
LURE OF THE VALE
Born in the valley
a family of outlaws
has rooted like weeds in its soil
Feeding on hope
and the rain that it brings
All the elements there for the toil
Won't you come with me?
Run with me
through the lure of the vale
Come with me
Run with me
Come with me
Run with me
Come with me
Fog has enveloped my valley of envy
I scale the green hill to look down
over the mist, so secure in my dreamings
I wait for the mystery to clear
Won't you come with me?
Run with me
through the lure of the vale
Come with me
Run with me
Come with me
Run with me
Come with me