Hell-bent red when it rose and purple as it set,
The dry heat of the sun conjured much regret.
Forever and a day, how long would it be?
In this harsh scornful desert as I talk to only me.
What good is a gun with nearly nothin’ to shoot?
Draggin’ mindlessly--only to tire my boot.
Reality seems to mock me, as I squint toward the distance,
I nearly swear I see paradise, if only for an instance.
Driven mad by the rattles, and abused by the dust,
I keep close to my horse--whom else could I trust?
And I keep pressin’ onward, assisted by the breeze,
Driven by pride, I deny the ground of my knees.
As day turns to night, my future is not known,
Will I keep my poor soul? Or be diminished to bone?
Yet I veer into the stars while few things are certain,
For just a few moments, I am freed of my burden.
As I wake from the night, my mouth is as cotton,
And my sad desperate diet begins to taste rotten.
So I pace blankly onward, racin’ against time,
Surely not deservin’, I’ve committed no true crime.
As I think of my family, I feel deep remorse;
Therefore, I climb to my saddle, and get back on my horse.
For what drives me today is greater than me,
‘Tis my wife and my son, I long for to see.
All my doubt is erased, a new man settles in--
I am ready to fight, but where to begin?
Led by my instinct and my horse’s as well,
Dedicated to freeing my soul from this hell.
Again at war with the wind, and a duel with the sun,
My mind is quickly holstered, as is my gun.
I see freedom’s in reach, and for goodness sake!
My home’s open arms, in the morn’ I will wake.