I drove the dunes for twenty years
I know the grit and all the fears
The sand is hot the wind is dry
A copper tint across the sky
I took a fare from Mos Espa
A lonely man with no roadmap
He paid in credits worn and thin
Where all the desert stories spin
Two gold coins sink in the deep
While the tired dunes fall asleep
By the ramp of the Ebon Hawk
Where the ghosts of the spacers walk
The metal stairs are cold and grey
The heat of noon has gone away
I lean my head against the door
And watch the orange light pour more
Two gold coins sink in the deep
While the tired dunes fall asleep
By the ramp of the Ebon Hawk
Where the ghosts of the spacers walk
Old roads lead back to where we start
A heavy beat inside the heart
The engine hums a low blue song
The night is where the lost belong
The first sun drops behind the hill
The air is heavy and it is still
The second one is burning red
A crown of fire above my head
I check the meter one last time
The desert wind begins to climb
The hawk is ready for the flight
Into the velvet black of night
Two gold coins sink in the deep
While the tired dunes fall asleep
By the ramp of the Ebon Hawk
Where the ghosts of the spacers walk
Double suns go down.
Double suns go down.
Just another fare.
Just another fare.
