the dawn is shedding shafts of light through
hills on the horizon
and they’re casting shadows miles long
but you don’t recognize em

something warm drips down your cheek
kinda tastes like copper seems

anvil head and fuzzy eye
your mouth feels like molasses
something burning on the sideline
why you hangin with them classless fools

you’re somewhere in the desert
somehow wearing boots them never seen before

it was somewhere east of Tucson
… somewhere west of San Antonio

or it could be Oklahoma
don’t let the desert own ya
gotta get back to California

you thought you were adventuresome
you thought it’d be exciting
it was mostly dull and tiresome
except when it was frightening

seems you’re not the only one
who thinks they’s bottled lightning
it was modestly enlightening

get back to California
you know you know wanna
get back to California

battered truck perched precariously
items strewn about variously
creosote and purple sage
scrubs of wild brush ablaze
passers-by think the whole thing staged
like some grand guignol goth cowboy rave

she lowers head and turns away
her hair falls o’er her eyes
she’s not the girl for you

so get ya back to California
I know you hate to be alone y’all
get back to California
don’t let the desert own ya