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Dusty Road
par
Michael W. Smith
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Dusty road, buried dreams, pieces on the ground Saw the ghosts of empty streets, of that West Virginia town You worked for years on swing shift at the oil refinery You loved your wife and your kids, and one of those kids was me And the sweat upon your brow was like the tears of Heaven pouring out You said, "Keep walking on down, down this dusty road We're gonna make it somehow" Now I wish that you were here, you'd be amazed to see That today looks like a page torn from 1933 In my dreams to you I run, in golden fields where angels kiss the sun You say, "Keep walking on down, down this dusty road We're gonna make it somehow" I can feel it, feel it in my bones That there's a place up ahead that looks like home We keep walking on down, down this dusty road We're gonna make it somehow (Make it somehow) We're gonna make it somehow Yes, we are And a peace comes to me now Like a steady hand to lead us out We keep walking on down, down this dusty road We're gonna make it somehow I can feel it, feel it in my bones That there's a place up ahead that looks like home We keep walking on down, down this dusty road We're gonna make it somehow (Make it somehow) We're gonna make it somehow Yes, we are
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