How could you go, Virginia
And play that drifter's game?
He sold to you the thunder
Were cannons in the rain
And all his Holy Roads
Were sidetracks just the same
Still you believe the thunder
Are cannons in the rain
Cannons in the rain
Your Don Quixote's windmills
Were giants in his eyes
To see things as they really are
It can only make you wise
And all his Holy Roads
Were sidetracks just the same
Still you believe the thunder
Are cannons in the rain
Cannons in the rain
And all his Holy Roads
Were sidetracks just the same
Still you believe the thunder
Are cannons in the rain
Cannons in the rain