hide under an alien blanket of stars
curl up in the desert sand
you got an old picture of your lonesome self
tucked in a benevolent hand

--

covered in blisters and red rugburns
married to scabs that rub raw
no better scene than to watch you dancing
and the muscles that jump in your jaw

--

can't fathom the road without you walking
feet stuck to the concrete black tar
an old cigarette in the white band of your hat
rush quiet and sleep in your car

--

it's too late to change roads of circumstance
and the fat fates that led us nowhere
this i can promise you: i will still be true blue
and you smile with the damn blankest stare

--

the hand lifts you up and you scream in the face
of a god that you never did see
he was too hard to find so he made you go blind
ain't no branch but a huge olive tree

--

cough a mouthful of air through some sick desert dust
pull the blanket of stars through the black
all the emblems you find you have stuck in your mind
painted signs: love, the aliens. write back