Where God's colors renew the horizon's edge, Salvation Soldiers aren't to be found. And while prairie dogs find themselves squatters on their own land, upper crust artists show us where the day old bread is. This is a good place to clear your head if ever there was one. Where dusty markets lead down dusty roads, which lead right into the middle of where I want to be. Free and Alone on the side of a mountain, where the sun don't apologize to me, and I don't have to explain myself to anyone else.
Some go ahead and call this God's Country. But I call this place New Mexico.