I discovered the valley of the shifting, whispering sands
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While prospecting for gold in one of our western States
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I saw the silent windmills, the crumbling water tanks
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The bones of cattle and burros, picked clean by buzzards
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Bleached by the desert suns
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I stumbled over a crumbling buckboard nearly covered by the sands
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And stopping to rest, I heard a tinkling, whispering sound
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Then suddenly realized that even though the wind was quiet
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The sand did not lie still
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I seemed to be surround by a mystery
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So heavy and oppressive I could scarcely breath
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For days and weeks I wandered aimlessly in this valley
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Seeking answers to the many questions
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That raced through my fevered mind
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Where was everyone
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Why the white bones
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The dry wells
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The barren valley where people must have lived and died
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Finally I could go no farther
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My food and water gone
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I sat down and buried my face in my hands
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And resting thus, I learned the secret
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Of the Shifting, whispering sands
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How I managed to escape from the valley I do not know
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But now to pay my final debt for being spared
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I must tell you what I learned out on the desert
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So many years ago
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When the day is awfully quiet
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And the breeze seems not to blow
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One would think the sand was resting
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But you'll find this is not so
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It is whispering, softly whispering
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As it slowly moves along
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And for those who stop and listen
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It will sing this mournful song
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Of sidewinders and the horn toads
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Of the thorny chaparral
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Endless sunny days and moonlit nights
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The coyotes lonely yell
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Of the stars seem you could tough them
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As you lay and gaze on high
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At the heavens where we're hoping
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We'll be going when we die
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Yes it always whispers to me
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Of the days of long ago
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When the settlers and the miners
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Fought the crafty Navajo
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How the cattle roamed the valley
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Happy people worked the land
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And now everything is covered
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By the shifting, whispering sands
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How the miner left his buckboards
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Went to work his claims that day
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And the burro's broke their halters
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When they thought he'd gone to stay
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Wandered far in search of water
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On to old sidewinder's well
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And there, their bones picked clean by buzzards
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That were circling when they fell
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How they found the ancient miner
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Lying dead upon the sand
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After months they could but wonder
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If he died by human hand
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So they dug his grave and laid him
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On his back and crossed his hands
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And his secret still is hidden
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By the shifting, whispering sands
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This is what they whispered to me
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On the quiet desert air
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Of the people and the cattle
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And the miner lying there
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If you want to learn their secret
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Wander through this quiet land
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And I'm sure you'll hear the story
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Of the shifting, whispering sands
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Shifting, whispering sands
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The Shifting Whispering Sands
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Billy Vaughn |