(Words and Music by Joan Baez)

    When the mist rolls in on Highway One
    like a curtain to the day
    A thousand silhouettes hold out their thumbs
    and I see them and I say
    You are my children
    my sweet children
    I am your poet.

    With hair just like the burning tree of Moses
    the girl beside you is your twin
    Behind your fiery make-up you should know this
    I am your sister, I am your kin, your flesh and kin
    I'll write this tune
    in matching phrases
    just to show it

    You are the orphans in an age
    of no tomorrows
    and with your walking you wage a war
    against the sorrows
    Your fathers left you
    a row to hoe
    and you'll hoe it.

    If I could write you easy directions
    on a list
    you would not read it, you could not see it
    for the mist
    Besides my pen is
    very righteous
    and I know it.

    So walk to the edges of a dying kingdom
    There's one more summer just around the bend
    The amber in your smile is brave and winsome
    for though your highway has no end, it never ends
    There is still the sky
    the windy cliff
    and the sea below it
    I'd take an angel's ram horn trumpet
    and I'd blow it
    I'd blow it.

    © 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP)

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