The Shifting Whispering Sands - Billy Vaughn

I discovered the valley of the shifting, whispering sands

While prospecting for gold in one of our western States

I saw the silent windmills, the crumbling water tanks

The bones of cattle and burros, picked clean by buzzards

Bleached by the desert suns

I stumbled over a crumbling buckboard nearly covered by the sands

And stopping to rest, I heard a tinkling, whispering sound

Then suddenly realized that even though the wind was quiet

The sand did not lie still

I seemed to be surround by a mystery

So heavy and oppressive I could scarcely breath

For days and weeks I wandered aimlessly in this valley

Seeking answers to the many questions

That raced through my fevered mind

Where was everyone

Why the white bones

The dry wells

The barren valley where people must have lived and died

Finally I could go no farther

My food and water gone

I sat down and buried my face in my hands

And resting thus, I learned the secret

Of the Shifting, whispering sands

How I managed to escape from the valley I do not know

But now to pay my final debt for being spared

I must tell you what I learned out on the desert

So many years ago

When the day is awfully quiet

And the breeze seems not to blow

One would think the sand was resting

But you’ll find this is not so It is whispering, softly whispering

As it slowly moves along

And for those who stop and listen

It will sing this mournful song

Of sidewinders and the horn toads

Of the thorny chaparral

Endless sunny days and moonlit nights

The coyotes lonely yell

Of the stars seem you could tough them

As you lay and gaze on high

At the heavens where we’re hoping

We’ll be going when we die

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

Wandered far in search of water

On to old sidewinder’s well

And there, their bones picked clean by buzzards

That were circling when they fell

How they found the ancient miner

Lying dead upon the sand

After months they could but wonder

If he died by human hand

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 On the quiet desert air

Of the people and the cattle

And the miner lying there

If you want to learn their secret

Wander through this quiet land

And I’m sure you’ll hear the story

Of the shifting, whispering sands

Shifting, whispering sands