Murder In The Desert
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The desert Likes young boy flesh Bones she can chew on Feeding off of the fat Chewing on your gristle Secrets just under her surface Tender and new Unrealized No angel’s gonna come You’re out of saviors here On your own Desolate Desperate Left to little resources The desert She’s got a spirit She must be blessed Beaten Battered With a gun to your head and your face in the dirt No pity No pleading Just the echoes of regret Call out Begging for any way out Think I heard him sell his soul As the bullet left its hole Not even a shallow grave The desert She’ll look after you Just as the cowboy is the Indian’s friend The pain will soon be over And you’ll never be in this place again Your spirit will fly As your carcass returns to its organic nature The desert She smiles Drunk on sacrifice How come it happens like this? Happens all the time