Out of a dark and old hidden cave

Near the ghost-town they call Devil’s Eye,

Arose the foul stench of a reopened grave

On a hot, moon-lit night in July.

 

The Indians told that the cave was the tomb

Of the crazy, young maiden Runs Wild

Who was banned to the cave, for the babe in her womb

Was the Devil’s Eye sheriff’s white child.

 

Now the sheriff, they say, found her dead in the cave

And he pinned a gold brooch to her breast,

And he fought back the tears as he dug her a grave

Where he lovingly laid her to rest.

 

The earth fell around her, trapping her tight

In the cave she continues to stay,

And sometimes at night when the wind is just right

You can still hear her wailing today.

 

Well, one day a drifter named Big Red Calhoun,

Riding through on the Lost Canyon Trail,

Stopped in for a brew in the local saloon

When he heard of the old Indian tale.

 

He rode to the cave with a lantern that night

And he dug up the corpse and the pin,

But there in the light, it was only pyrite!

He’d been played for a fool — taken in!

 

Her soul now released, the young maiden fled

And he let out a thunderous roar

That shook the cave walls and stone ceiling o’erhead

Til they buckled and crashed to the floor.

 

The stones fell around him, trapping him tight

In the cave he continues to stay

And sometimes at night when the wind is just right

You can still hear him wailing today.

Just lounging here

On the edge

Of a cloud

As generations

Of grandchildren

Are cast like kindling

Into the Lake of Fire

Below

 

They had never

Heard of Jesus

Their screams

Blend into

The cacophony

Of billions

Some eternal bliss

Above

A new morning breaks

The clouds are undone

The Spirit awakes

The flight has begun

The dark of night ending

We all are as one

Ascending and blending

Into the sun