Twilight On the Trail - Sam Cooke

When it's twilight on the trail,

And I jog along,

The world is like a dream

And the ripple of the stream is my song . . .

When it's twilight on the trail,

And I rest once more,

My ceiling is the sky

And the grass on which I lie is my floor . . .

Never ever have a nickel in my jeans,

Never ever have a debt to pay,

Still I understand what real contentment means,

Guess I was born that way . . .

When it's twilight on the trail,

And my voice is still,

Please plant this heart of mine

Underneath the lonesome pine on the hill . . .