(Words and Music by Joan Baez)       When the mist rolls in on Highway One    like a curtain to the day    A thousand silhouettes hold out their thumbs    and I see them and I say    You are my children    my sweet children    I am your poet.       With hair just like the burning tree of Moses    the girl beside you is your twin    Behind your fiery make-up you should know this    I am your sister, I am your kin, your flesh and kin    I'll write this tune    in matching phrases    just to show it       You are the orphans in an age    of no tomorrows    and with your walking you wage a war    against the sorrows    Your fathers left you    a row to hoe    and you'll hoe it.       If I could write you easy directions    on a list    you would not read it, you could not see it    for the mist    Besides my pen is    very righteous    and I know it.       So walk to the edges of a dying kingdom    There's one more summer just around the bend    The amber in your smile is brave and winsome    for though your highway has no end, it never ends    There is still the sky    the windy cliff    and the sea below it    I'd take an angel's ram horn trumpet    and I'd blow it    I'd blow it.       © 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP)