Grease is popping on the flat top grill
Coffee pot is humming, standing still
I see him leaning on the motel porch
Summer heat is burning like a torch
He plays a line that cuts the desert air
A golden sound that strips the spirit bare
Desert bow string singing out a tune
Underneath a heavy white July moon
Regulars are nodding in the booth
Sipping bitter black and telling truth
He hums a melody of rusted roads
Carrying a thousand heavy loads
He plays a line that cuts the desert air
A golden sound that strips the spirit bare
Desert bow string singing out a tune
Underneath a heavy white July moon
Sand is drifting through the open door
Salt and pepper shaking on the floor
His fingers dancing on the maple wood
Making every broken moment good
He plays a line that cuts the desert air
A golden sound that strips the spirit bare
Desert bow string singing out a tune
Underneath a heavy white July moon
I flip the burgers and I wipe the plate
Counting down the minutes till it's late
He doesn't ask for money or a dime
Just a little piece of stolen time
The wind kicks up a cloud of red and gray
The heavy storm is washing heat away
The air is cool and crisp and smelling clean
The sharpest music that I've ever seen
The rain is stopping and the sky is clear
I can feel the sudden magic here
He bows the string and lets the rhythm fly
Against the purple of a Santa Fe sky
He plays a line that cuts the desert air
A golden sound that strips the spirit bare
Desert bow string singing out a tune
Underneath a heavy white July moon
Just a desert bow string.
Keep it humming now.
Yeah, that's the sound.
