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From the dusty mesa |
|
Her looming shadow grows |
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Hidden in the poison creosote |
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In the hushing dusk |
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Under a swollen silver moon |
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I came walking with the wind |
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To watch the cactus bloom |
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She twines her spines up slowly |
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Towards the boiling sun |
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And when I touched her skin |
|
My fingers ran with blood |
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Then rise with me forever |
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Across the silent sands |
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And the stars will be your eyes |
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And the wind will be my hand, will be my hand |
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A strange hunger haunted me |
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The looming shadows danced |
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I fell down to the thorny brush |
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And felt a trembling hand |
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And when the last light warms the rocks |
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And the rattlesnakes unfold |
|
Cats will come to drag away your bones |
|
She twines her spines up slowly |
|
Towards the boiling sun |
|
And when I touched her skin |
|
My fingers ran with blood |
|
Oh, rise with me forever |
|
Across the silent sands |
|
And the stars will be your eyes |
|
And the wind will be my hand, will be my hand |
