Indian Paintbrush

I wish I'd heard them Aspen trees sing back when my grandpa was young

He said there were more gold eagles here than people two to one

They came and made the wild tame

Won the west but lost the range

It's as plain as day to see that change has finally come

Now the Indian Paintbrush is in bloom again

The prairie's burning up in red and green

It breaks my heart to think that my son might not ever get to see

The Indian Paintbrush come in bloom again

Then the Indian Paintbrush paints me blue again

♪

Now the sun is sinking down on what's left of the western front

What used to seem so sacred now don't matter all that much

The train tracks cut a trail of scars

They bring near what should stay far away

Yeah, there's some things you and me weren't made to touch

Like the Indian Paintbrush that's in bloom again

The prairie's burning up in red and green

It breaks my heart to think that my son might not ever get to see

The Indian Paintbrush come in bloom again

Then the Indian Paintbrush paints me blue again

♪

Now the Indian Paintbrush is in bloom again

The prairie's burning up in red and green

It breaks my heart to think that my son might not ever get to see

The Indian Paintbrush come in bloom again

Then the Indian Paintbrush paints me blue again