(Listen to the age old story)
(Of the shifting, whispering sand)
Yes, it always whispers to me
Of the days of long ago
When the settlers and the miners
Fought the crafty Navajo
How the cattle roamed the valley
Happy people worked the land
And now everything is covered
By the shifting, whispering sands
How the miner left his buckboards
Went to work his claims that day
And the burro's broke their halters
When they thought he'd gone to stay
How they found the ancient miner
Lyin' dead upon the sand
After months they could but wonder
If he died by human hands
So they dug his grave and laid him
On his back and crossed his hands
And his secret still is hidden
By the shifting, whispering sands
This is what they whispered to me
Way out on that quiet desert air
Of the people and the cattle
And that miner lying there
If you want to learn his secret
Wander through this quiet land
And I'm sure you'll hear the story
Of the shifting, whispering sands