Song | Wyoming |
Artist | The Lucksmiths |
Album | A Good Kind Of Nervous |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
I like the look of Wyoming | |
Although I wasn’t there for long | |
And I like the sound of Wyoming | |
‘Cause it sounds like the name of a song | |
The sky was big and the fields were wide | |
And if people lived there, they were all inside | |
In Wyoming | |
I like the light of Wyoming | |
It shone down in a painterly way | |
I met no residents of Wyoming | |
So about them I’ve nothing to say | |
The grass was pale and the sky was grey | |
And time that I spent there was less than a day | |
In Wyoming | |
There are fences of wood in Wyoming | |
That roll across prairies so grand | |
But they hold nothing out and they hold nothing in | |
So their use I do not understand | |
The rain in the distance, the shadow of cloud | |
If the hills made a sound it was not very loud | |
In Wyoming |
I like the look of Wyoming | |
Although I wasn' t there for long | |
And I like the sound of Wyoming | |
' Cause it sounds like the name of a song | |
The sky was big and the fields were wide | |
And if people lived there, they were all inside | |
In Wyoming | |
I like the light of Wyoming | |
It shone down in a painterly way | |
I met no residents of Wyoming | |
So about them I' ve nothing to say | |
The grass was pale and the sky was grey | |
And time that I spent there was less than a day | |
In Wyoming | |
There are fences of wood in Wyoming | |
That roll across prairies so grand | |
But they hold nothing out and they hold nothing in | |
So their use I do not understand | |
The rain in the distance, the shadow of cloud | |
If the hills made a sound it was not very loud | |
In Wyoming |
I like the look of Wyoming | |
Although I wasn' t there for long | |
And I like the sound of Wyoming | |
' Cause it sounds like the name of a song | |
The sky was big and the fields were wide | |
And if people lived there, they were all inside | |
In Wyoming | |
I like the light of Wyoming | |
It shone down in a painterly way | |
I met no residents of Wyoming | |
So about them I' ve nothing to say | |
The grass was pale and the sky was grey | |
And time that I spent there was less than a day | |
In Wyoming | |
There are fences of wood in Wyoming | |
That roll across prairies so grand | |
But they hold nothing out and they hold nothing in | |
So their use I do not understand | |
The rain in the distance, the shadow of cloud | |
If the hills made a sound it was not very loud | |
In Wyoming |