Theme for an imaginary western

When the wagons leave the city for the forest and further on
Painted wagons of the morning, dusty roads where they have gone
Sometimes travellin' through the darkness, met the summer comin' home
Fallen faces by the wayside, looked as if they might have known

Oh the sun was in their eyes, and the desert was dry
In the country towns, where their laughter sounds

Oh the dancing and the singing and the music when they played
Oh the fire that they started along the trail with no regrets
Sometimes they found it, sometimes they kept it
Often lost it along the way
Fought each other to possess it, sometimes blind to the light of day

Oh the sun was in their eyes, and the desert was dry
In the country towns, where their laughter sounds