Good evening.
So this is called Rivers Run Dry.
For Roger.
There's a cold
June wind coming down again.
Caught unawares,
weren't you my friend?
Just how long did you
think you could keep burning?
Burning out the candle
at both ends.
Rivers run dry, aren't you my friend?
As a red dirt cloud comes
screaming in.
There'll be no more rendezvous at the watering hole we knew so well.
All the stories that we tell,
we were always raising hell.
Now we're a long,
long way
from there,
my friend.
Dry,
dry river.
Ooh. So many ways
that a man can drown.
We went sharp story
slip around
last bend.
Dry,
dry, dry river never ends.
And the
music
we made was heaven sent.
But
all
we sang together now and then is the
melody I miss
on the long haul
as we kiss the dream goodbye.
Never ask the reason why.
With our lonely lullaby.
Like a feather we are broken from
the weight
of time.
Of time.
Yeah.
Dry, dry river.
Ooh. So many ways
that a man
can drown.
We went sharp story slip around that last bend.
Dry,
dry river never ends.
My
friend.
My friend.
My,
my, my friend.