Forlorn finger traces
Leave a ***** line
Follow it up and down
Take it down the fast lane
Walk it killing time
I found the edge
Of red dirt lands
Where sea-glass peaks
And waterless towns
Call for calves to drink
Some say they draw
Lines thick in the sand
But I don't believe
Anyone could mean
To be on the same side
Of this well war-torn town
Dancing on and away
The curtains of my eyes
Drawn to darkened skies
Could it be that you left
One too many bended
Broken half-healed ties?