A golden sea of desert sand,
Upon his horse sits a lonely man,
Avoiding the heat the best he can,
To quench his thirst he drinks cactus juice,
Relentlessly trying to escape the noose,
The vultures fly overhead,
Eagerly waiting till he is dead,
The sandy floor takes on many forms,
being blown about in furious storms.
As night draws near the temperature drops,
All life slows down and stops,
Nothing moves in the arctic cold,
Except the sand that sea of gold,
Dawn breaks and the sun and sky meet,
Once again the sun omits a powerful heat,
A scorpion scuttles in search of something to kill,
When it's prey is dead it takes it's fill,
The man builds a fire on which to cook,
some vultures fly low to get a look,
He kills a snake for something to eat,
After cooking he tastes the meat.
the enemy give chase their angers flared,
The man runs on horified and scared,
Evading his captors with terror on his face,
Awaiting the time when he can show his ace,
The bones of dead animals lay there like they're bleached white,
As if they had ben cleaned with acid in their fight,
He whistles a tune and sings a rhyme,
To help ease the passing hours of time,
Rididng through the suns powerful blaze,
Covering his eyes from the blinding haze.
The man rests in the dead of night,
A soldier catches up and is shot on sight,
He knows the others are not far away,
But at least he lives to fight another day,
He packs up camp and then moves out,
After he crosses the border and gives a shout,
They give up chase of this lonesome ranger,
And give him the name the desert stranger.