Trujillo
Words and Music by Bernie McDonald


(Originally released on the Vignette album. Coming Home (out of print) 1982)


Down 84 and a little to the west
There rests some rotting villages in a restless spirit night
And the San Juan Gouge is gorgeous, to the north a little way
And by dawn the heat and silence reigns, the sage kneels down and prays

Call me Trujillo
For the Spanish name of one long gone
Call me the ghosted town, filled with Indians eyes
And the dust burns blowin’
As it strikes my dark blue eyes
And from my prism tears brown eyed ghosts released arise

Across an unused bridge, and upon a barren ridge
John pointed out across the land that once was his
And the spirit of his roots it lies beneath some land made lake
An icy windin’ mirror lying while a raven calls above

Call me Trujillo
For the Spanish name of one long gone
Call me the ghosted town, filled with Indians eyes
And the dust burns blowin’
As it strikes my dark blue eyes
And from my prism tears brown eyed ghosts released arise

Two monuments to man still stand by a creek they call the cat
And one’s to house the dead saints souls and the others to quench the trains
But even the railroads withered here, they smoked off somewhere else
But once a month the church burns bright with a Catholic fear of hell

Call me Trujillo
For the Spanish name of one long gone
Call me the ghosted town, filled with Indians eyes
And the dust burns blowin’
As it strikes my dark blue eyes
And from my prism tears brown eyed ghosts released arise

Now not many people live out here
Where the trees can barely grow
Wind toasted men and women, southern Utes and all of their gold
They poach for Elk, or run some sheep, to last another year
Another year of wind and sun
Acid dust, and tears

Call me Trujillo
For the Spanish name of one long gone
Call me the ghosted town, filled with Indians eyes
And the dust burns blowin’
As it strikes my dark blue eyes
And from my prism tears brown eyed ghosts released arise

©Bernie McDonald/Ozark Songsmith