Little Hands - The String Cheese Incident

Winding down the dusty trail

From Cathedral Butte

Walking towards the canyon floor

Playing Anasasi flutes

Eagles flying overhead

Beneath the desert sky

Makes me think of how they lived

Many years gone by

I wander here from time to time

To give my head some space

Leave the noise and confusion

Vanish without a trace

Salt Creek runs through the grass

As you hum that canyon tune

Brush against the desert sage

Just like some sweet perfume

Eight hundred years ago

This canyon was their home

Eight hundred years ago

They walked through the sand

Eight hundred years ago

They painted these little hands

Yes this is the timeless place

That’s seen them come and go

They packed it up way back when

And drifted on down the road

The earth, the sun, the moon and the stars

Meant so much back then

But the years go by and though you try

You can’t bring them back again