thousand, red warriors reluctantly ordered to begin

charge that lead to slaughter amid chaotic blackened din

On a desert plain where I now [bad word] dusty eyes

With [bad word] of a deaf friend whose beginnings I despise

It is lonely at this stop here with the low arms

of light creeping in

We delivered the kiss of death and it was

well received

It is lonely and there is no place to go except down

It’s lonely and there’s no where to go except down

The desert is alone and I’ve no face to show this dawn

Just heavy, cold light on these eyes, this sorry excuse

for eyes

I dressed up a cactus as a clown and on

his spiny face I painted a frown

His whiskers [bad word] my cheek, I plant the kiss

of death, my lip bleeds

It is lonely and the only direction I know

is down into the battle

It is lonely and the only place I know to go

is down into the bottle

The desert is home for me, a dusty, circus clown

“the moth balls,” I told you “were such a sorry

excuse for eyes.”

On a desert plain where I now [bad word] 
dusty eyes

In [bad word] of a [bad word]  deaf, dumb friend

whose beginnings I despise

spotted with placid mirrors is this ground

but their reflection scares the [bad word] out of me

Takes what he can, when he can, why he can

He kicks the can

There’s a pebble inside and it rattles hopelessly

to the empty desert dawn

but it was well received