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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 its 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 thats not the case

Im just too tired to sin

Sun glistening like a frightened fist

This latitude doesnt 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



Instant that, instant this, instant that, instant this . . .



In a desert town I found

A future old and broke like roman ruins

I been turned around its 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

Im waiting, waiting for your hand

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 its 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 thats not the case

Im just too tired to sin

Sun glistening like a frightened fist

This latitude doesnt 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



Instant that, instant this, instant that, instant this . . .



In a desert town I found

A future old and broke like roman ruins

I been turned around its 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

Im waiting, waiting for your hand

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