Scratched My Stubbled Jowls.

(S. Walker)
I found myself in a desert
Miles from any town
My horse was dead, my canteen dry
The sun beat on my crown
And as the vultures circled
And the wolves began to howl
I raised my hand up to my jaw
And scratched my stubbled jowl

And I felt lonely (lonely)
And the thought occurred, as I lost my nerve
To dust I'm gonna go
What would my epitaph it read?
The sand would only know

I crawled across the desert floor
For days, I don't know how
The rocks began to shimmer
And the thirst began to power
An orchestra of suffering
Was playing in my mind
With the devil on percussion
And the rattlers keepin' time

And I felt lonely (lonely)
And the thought occurred, as I lost my nerve
To dust I'm gonna go
What would my epitaph it read?
The sand would only know

It seemed that I would die there
In that desert of despair
A dry and thirsty destitute
Cowboy beyond repair
And as I contemplated this
A fortune oh so foul
I raised my hand up to my jaw
And I scratched my stubbled jowl

And I felt lonely (lonely)
And the thought occurred, as I lost my nerve
To dust I'm gonna go
What would my epitaph it read?
The sand would only know.

© - copyright 1996, Simon Walker. All rights reserved.