TUMBLING MUSTARD
All: Born in a fence-corner,
Raised in a coulee,
Wedded in
Parted on the Sound.
Solo 1: They call me Tumbling Mustard.
Solo 2: “Hey, Tumbling Mustard,
what’s your business,
Listen buddy,
Where are you bound?”
Solo 1: Monday in
Tuesday in Dakota,
One day in
Three in
All: Mud roads and stony roads, concrete
and macadam,
Solo 1: She would never leave me if I would
settle down.
All: Columbine and larkspur,
Peony and dahlia,
Cornflower, mayflower,
Each has its place.
Solo 1: I am the tumble-weed that rolls
across the prairies,
All: Winds at the back of it,
Mountains in its face.
All: Tumble-weed, tumble-weed
Riding his velocipede.
Solo 1: East side, west side,
All around the moon.
All:
and
Solo 1: Maybe if the gas holds out
We’ll get there soon.