John Prine - Caravan of Fools - The Tree of Forgiveness

The dark and distant drumming
The pounding of the hooves
The silence of everything that moves
Late at night you'll see them
Decked out in shiny jewels
The coming of the caravan of fools

Like the wings of a dove
The waiter's white glove
Seems to shimmer by the light of the pool
Some dull, blinding winner
When you can't stand to lose

You're running with the caravan of fools