I hitched a ride to a desert town (I never planned this trip) I saw my past in the sun like a tongue (that slowly dripped) People faced me with Lazarus eyes They were red and dazed like fat horse flies I was lost in twelve directions I was searching for my own reflection
In a desert town I found a future old and broke like Roman ruins I been turned around it's true The postage past is due This heat is twisted like a knife
I got the picture but I lost the frame (Where did it begin) Thought I was holy but that's not the case I'm just too tired to sin Sun glistening like a frightened fist This latitude doesn't exist
In a desert town I found Nothing is going to be the way it should What I thought I lost I could get back Take the blade and hack my way back to another day
In a desert town I found a future old and broke like Roman ruins I been turned around it's true The postage past is due This heat is twisting like a knife
In a desert town the sound Whispers like like the women at the well In this dry high wind I bend like a cactus in the sand I'm waiting, waiting for your hand
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Copy to Clipboard: I hitched a ride to a desert town (I never planned this trip) I saw my past in the sun like a tongue (that slowly dripped) People faced me with Lazarus eyes They were red and dazed like fat horse flies I was lost in twelve directions I was searching for my own reflection
In a desert town I found a future old and broke like Roman ruins I been turned around it's true The postage past is due This heat is twisted like a knife
I got the picture but I lost the frame (Where did it begin) Thought I was holy but that's not the case I'm just too tired to sin Sun glistening like a frightened fist This latitude doesn't exist
In a desert town I found Nothing is going to be the way it should What I thought I lost I could get back Take the blade and hack my way back to another day
In a desert town I found a future old and broke like Roman ruins I been turned around it's true The postage past is due This heat is twisting like a knife
In a desert town the sound Whispers like like the women at the well In this dry high wind I bend like a cactus in the sand I'm waiting, waiting for your hand
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