This is the Canyon lands Can you feel it man? Dawn's early promise to lend you her hand. Awake from the cave from the rubble you climb. Down the lonely path to the river of time.
This is the Canyon lands far from the thought Plateau. Deep down in that crevasse where the warming fires glow. Where the canyon walls climb to the cheeks of the sky. The sun she peaks in from time to time.
This is the canyon land Where the River she winds. Cut down deep by her flowing design. Through the valley she runs away from the caves. On a long from our shelter to a place that we crave.
This is the Canyon Land but all we want is more. To travel the river of time set sail from our Shores. Slide along the river to where the canyon meets the sea. Float on from that crevasse to Eternity.
This is the canyon land from where we took the plunge. In to her cooling hands flowing toward the sun. To divide and conquer explore the high seas. Gain, grab, and get more than we can dream.
This Is The Place To Where the River Flows and the canyon meets the sea. Plastered form our being until eternity. Something Beyond this miserable cage that we live in. and the sky opens up to give all she has to give Where the sky opens up to give all she has to give.
Those who don't go with the wind Will be shaped by it Their blood will be waves Their minds will be canyons They will be shaped to a fertile and forgiving landscape So that those who get carried by the wind Will have a safe place to land
Over untallied millennia, roiling Gunnison waters sliced through southern Colorado schist and gneiss like a sabre - carving tower walls of black rock ribboned with tableaus of pegmatite and mica flakes flickering in the mid-day sun.
2,000 feet below, meandering through its stark canyon walls like some legendary serpent, the Gunnison murmurs softly - resting on its laurels.
Ma side-cariste, comme un cerf-volant flotte Rattaché à un fil, Tu roules dans ta caisse sur chassis Tomahawk Attelée à ton prototype, moi sur ma Cheftaine Indienne D'origine, Moi ta prothèse, ton calumet de la paix.
Et rallye après rallye, Cascade après cascade, Escale après escale, Notre route à deux Emprunte les chemins escarpés Les canyons au sens propre comme au figuré J'enfile mon casque coloré rouge blanc et bleu, Je me signe d'un shot de Wild Turkey Je me sens des ailes d'aigle, Je me sens Evel Knievel ex machina Ford Davidson et Harley Mustang Je m'élance sur la rampe Je franchis le mur de ton son en flammes au dessus d'une rangée de quatorze comètes écrasées et amassées Dans les eaux de ton Grand Canyon sidéral D'où saillit la fontaine de Caesar Palace Saturée de mille requins affamés qui crient : "Color me lucky !