I wish I'd heard them Aspen Trees sing Back when my Grandpa was young He said there were more Gold Eagles here Than people two to one They came and made the wild tame Won the west, but lost the range It's as plain as day to see That change has finally come
Now the Indian Paintbrush is in bloom again The prairie's burning up in red and green It breaks my heart to think that my son might not ever get to see The Indian Paintbrush come in bloom again Then the Indian Paintbrush paints me blue again
Now the sun is sinking down on what's left of the western front What used to seem so sacred now don't matter all that much The train tracks cut a trail of scars They bring near what should stay far away Yeah there somethings you and me weren't made to touch
Like the Indian Paintbrush that's in bloom again The prairie's burning up in red and green It breaks my heart to think that my son might not ever get to see The Indian Paintbrush come in bloom again Then the Indian Paintbrush paints me blue again
Now the Indian Paintbrush is in bloom again The prairie's burning up in red and green It breaks my heart to think that my son might not ever get to see The Indian Paintbrush come in bloom again Then the Indian Paintbrush paints me blue againTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
