This desert (watch as these vessels)
Has roaches (are exposed enough)
Bad tattoos (to gain momentum)
A death wish (but you'll never leave)
His breath is dusty
His clothes are worn
He will kill you in a second
Consider yourself warned
He has no father
Was never scorned
He was raised beneath the hills
By the coyotes and the thorns
I swear I'm close to familiar hands
As the river runs backwards through my veins
I swear I'm close to familiar hands
