Murder In The Desert
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
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