He drops on the sandy folds,
Of a deathly bed,
A lost traveler of a mighty desert,
Parched throat, cracked skin,
He is his own Messiah,
Or another vagabond victim,
he's got nothing but himself,
the harsh sun has no respect,
no mercy, it's shining in protest,
he is all alone,all his friends are gone.
he's got no one to hold onto,...