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Listen to "Land of the Flowers"
Land of the Flowers The palm trees stand in silhouette Where Spaniards cast their bayonets. The soldiers are gone, but the trees stand yet, Towering over the land of the flowers.
The gray moss blew in fresh from Spain, Riding the crest of a wild hurricane. Our fine homes scatter but the moss remains. The moss drips forever, but never runs dry.
And the water springs clear from the sand and the stone, Quenching a wilderness no one can own. And the water springs cold from the stone and the sand. Nothing of value will rest in your hand.
We pass sterile days, sharing the blame For colorless cities with old Spanish names. But God hides in places that no one can tame, Standing watch over the land of the flowers.
And the water springs clear from the sand and the stone, Quenching a wilderness no one can own. And the water springs cold from the stone and the sand. Nothing of value will rest in your hand.
The palm trees stand in silhouette Where Spaniards cast their bayonets. The soldiers are gone, but the trees stand yet, Towering over the land of the flowers.
Music and lyrics by David and Mary Anna Evans Lead vocals and harmonies: Mary Anna Evans Guitar and harmonies: David Evans Guitar: David Reiser Fiddle: Annemieke Pronker-Coron Percussion: Bill Hutchinson
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