(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)