Ismay

 

(we) Came to Ismay

(we) Came to the promised land

(we’d) Turn the west into a garden

A beautiful garden with our own hands

 

We’d grow fields of barley

and we) Plant trees around the house

(we) Turn the west into a garden

A beautiful garden with our own hands

 

(so) Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Darlin’, bring on the night

 

(in the) Dry spell 1919

Spring wheat failed to grow

No flowers no more gardens

Rainless years had burned the land

 

burned photos burned memories

All hope gone

By freight train out of Mildred we escaped

And never came back home

 

(so) Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Darlin’, bring on the night

 

Remember winter times thirty below zero

Burning fenceposts to stay alive

Frozen stiff rapturous winds

People shivering by the fireside

 

Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Darlin’, bring on the night

 

Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Bring on the night

Darlin’, bring on the night

 

Came to Ismay

 

Came to the promised land

 

Words from the book "Bad Land" by Jonathan Raban used with kind permission of the author.