Hold up your wooden cross to me
In the desert dear when you are crossing
The valley in moonlight you are killing me
And here there is no water for the blood
To move in so, just go, it seeps into the soil
As quiet as a dying star listen I can hear the
Insects that never were born the ones
That could not find the golden petals,
I watch, as you move on in moonlight
Between mesas and disappear again and again.