Our love has been…. well no, it is… a desert,
Like the Wild West – a dry, empty land.
I’m the “Man with No Name” who’s saddled this hazard
And shoots at the black sky as my frustrations fan.
I’m left tired by the sun’s endless heckles
Without shape, and without composure.
Here In the hard land with peppercorn speckles,
Unprotected by my lost-love’s enclosure.
But I lay by the smoke of a dwindling flame
With nothing but a dream of who I miss.
A fresh, spicy lover who’s never been tamed.
And entices me – excites with every kiss.