This desert (watch as these vessels) Has roaches (are exposed enough) Bad tattoos (to gain momentum) A death wish (but you'll never leave) His breath is dusty His clothes are worn He will kill you in a second Consider yourself warned He has no father Was never scorned He was raised beneath the hills By the coyotes and the thorns I swear I'm close to familiar hands As the river runs backwards through my veins I swear I'm close to familiar hands