When the wind sweeps the sand to the sky
and the ocean of dust starts to rise
in the desert of life we are islands of light
in the faces of death we're alive
When the sun starts to fall from the sky
and the land of the day starts to die
there's a place where my eyes always rest
where the colors descend on the West
Where the blue meets the yellow and red
and the hills are all purple and dead
'fore the electric kite in the sky
is ready to ride you into the night
Where the stars are all-knowing and bright
and the moon is a sliver of light
from a faraway star we are further than far
away from the eclipse of the Sun
When it rise its head in the East
and the sounds of the night have all ceased
we're alive and awake and enveloping
everything from the sun underneath
Where the land is all blistered and parched
where the cowboys and indians marched
to their deaths in the West while the rest of us
followed them to be imbued by the sun
Where the coyotes are crossing the plain
and the doves and the crows are all playing
in the sand and the branches of joshua trees
in the faces of death we are free
As the wildflowers lining the paths
and the washes as dry as the wraths
of the sun, he sees everything from above
he can mercilessly see all things
from above