I discovered the valley of the shifting, whispering sands 
While prospecting for gold in one of our western States
I saw the silent windmills, the crumbling water tanks
The bones of cattle and burros, picked clean by buzzards
Bleached by the desert suns

I stumbled over a crumbling buckboard nearly covered by the sands
And stopping to rest, I heard a tinkling, whispering sound
Then suddenly realized that even though the wind was quiet 
The sand did not lie still

I seemed to be surround by a mystery 
So heavy and oppressive I could scarcely breath
For days and weeks I wandered aimlessly in this valley
Seeking answers to the many questions
That raced through my fevered mind

Where was everyone?
Why the white bones?
The dry wells?
The barren valley where people must have lived and died?

Finally I could go no farther
My food and water gone
I sat down and buried my face in my hands
And resting thus, I learned the secret 
Of the Shifting, whispering sands

How I managed to escape from the valley I do not know 
But now to pay my final debt for being spared
I must tell you what I learned out on the desert
So many years ago

When the day is awfully quiet 
And the breeze seems not to blow
One would think the sand was resting
But you'll find this is not so

It is whispering, softly whispering
As it slowly moves along
And for those who stop and listen
It will sing this mournful song

Of sidewinders and the horn toads
Of the thorny chaparral
Endless sunny days and moonlit nights
The coyotes lonely yell

Of the stars seem you could tough them
As you lay and gaze on high
At the heavens where we're hoping
We'll be going when we die

