The hot and dusty road is where all things fall apart
You were my sleep waitress in this baking trailer park
On a calm March night, they left their [bad word] shouts behind
And carried you away to find work, a better life
I hear the stars talking from the tin roof of my home
Placing bets on the emigrants on how far they might go
I wonder where you are, are you out there all alone?

We can dance without a mask, [bad word] back from where you've gone
I wonder where you are, did you ever make it through?
The desert was a curse, lying still in wait for you
There's a coldness where you walked, and a silence in my yard
How can I not see you now? [bad word] the border guards