The Dry Waltz

THE DRY WALTZ was written by Boonville, Mo. songwriter and poet Bob Dyer. The song mirrors the frustration of fading love and the relentless, rainless, and seemingly endless days of Missouri's brutal summer of 1980. All the fields are turning brown; There ain't no rain been falling down. It's the driest that it's been Around here in years. Sometimes I just can't carry on; Sometimes the faith and hope are gone. I'd like to cry, but I just can't find the tears. The days are hot; the creeks are dry, And the sky is blue and hazy. These dusty roads I'm driving down, Lord, they're driving me crazy. All the streams are running slow, And the ponds are getting low. I don't know how long it's been Since we've had rain. And when the love no longer flows, And the cracks begin to show I'll understand, but I just can't stand the pain. Oh, the air is thick and still. The heat hangs heavy in the hills, And nothing seems to move For miles around. Another day, another dawn; Seems it just goes on and on, And no one seems to know when it will end. © Bob Dyer, 1982.