. Dying in the desert. The loners lonely end. In the shifting sand oasis Black light blue. Cock-a-doodle-do. Calling for the innocent. The taming of the shrew. The muting of the colors. The mystical
Rain like static falling in my eyes, . Rain like static on the road, . Rain on the loners and the regular thieves, . Everybody else has gone home. If I could stay in your hotel bed, . Sleep all
surrenders. Taken into custody. So satisfying, I would be lying. If I didn't want to hear the plea So we gather 'round, Psycho Joe. The quiet loners, always blow. Strap him in the chair. And killing bad
expecting none. And we'll see if that fix my luck. Ey, this for the loners. The *-ups and stoners. The faded but focused, processing emotions. As pain washes over, we shaking gem boulders. Off all of our
