I've taken great interest in the surface of things
I'm not looking for a deeper meaning than a lung full of wood-smoke
the feel of my sister's hand in my hand
I was born in Tucson
and I got my ass kicked by the Viet Cong
I guess they were just getting along
I might have done the same in their shoes
the mountains gutted by strip mines
the deserts criss-crossed by power lines
they drown the canyon so the city can have fuel
but I can't get away from the day to day
I can only sing of ordinary motion
snow melting, and moving towards the ocean
the powers that be won't let me be
the powers that be won't let me be
and the war and the mall and the sprawl are part of the same machine
and it's no damn simple thing like a conspiracy
what's a desert rat to do
when he's shakin' in his shoes?
when coyote's on the loose
what's a desert rat to do?
the altar was torn down
the machine defiled my sacred ground
so I stand above the desert sand
with a monkey wrench in my hand
I am not a patient man
I am not a patient man
I measure desert distance with beer cans
as I drive the valleys and I drive the crest
I feel a dangerous howl
living deep with in my chest |
