The Desert
In the middle of the desert, all on her own,
I thought I saw a blue eyed blonde, hiding behind a stone.
In the middle of the desert, I seemed to hear her call,
And I wondered if there still was time to stop her endless fall.
Or maybe it was just a mirage of years ago gone by.
A haunted desert memory that wouldn’t say goodbye
And the sands of my desert linger on.
In the middle of a sandstorm, I thought I saw her smile
I moved a little closer, she retreated a mile.
By the trail of a caravanserai, I caught up with her tracks.
I threw her all my passion; she returned they were not facts
.
Maybe they were just lost longings of a time I never knew,
Poems and songs and words that went wrong when experiences were few
Still the sands of my desert lingered on.
In the middle of a lifetime’s waste I thought I saw her appear
In a moment she was gone again, yet I didn’t think it queer.
For a moment in the desert I thought I saw a face.
But on looking back I knew for sure I’d seen it in some place.
Maybe in a mirror, that was hanging upside down.
The reflection of loneliness, the expression of a clown
And the sands of my desert still linger on.