Washin' us clean, washing us clean

God was washing us clean

Washing us clean, washin' us clean

The rain was washing us clean

A frog came out,

She was no goat;

She had no tale to sing 

The voices all-range in the dark of the Folk Center.  I was in my oil cloth.  I held the lantern up as high as I could.

Many were afraid to come, 

They thought they'd lost their honor; Oh yes, many were afraid to come without their documents.

  "Why doesn't the frog

  "That's my princess

  "Have a tale to sing?"

  "Well, it's a tradition in New Mexico." 

  "I don't care about tradition." 

  "Too bad for you." 

  A person had made it past "the wall" of lawyers surrounding a prospective TV person.  The person was more interested in local affairs such as preventing forest fires, and, kind of recruiting in an off-beat way, the protected person to be a POTUS person. 

  "Don't ever lose your beautiful smile," a mom and some little ones passing by on the way to the "wagons circled"/tent area waved and said.

  "I doubt that'll ever come back after this trip."