Twilight On the Trail - Perry Como, Mitchell Ayers and His Orchestra

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