Meter stopped on sandstone rim today
Wheels kissed dust where ancient rivers lay
Cabbie knows the fare before you speak
Desert writes the checks that cities break
Sun hits mesa gold and cyclist waits
Canyon walls keep count of all the dates
No passenger to load no flag to throw
Just gravity and time moving slow
Spokes turn silver in the morning heat
Rider drinks the distance bitter sweet
Taxi man reads weather in the sky
Clouds don't lie and wind won't testify
Sun hits mesa gold and cyclist waits
Canyon walls keep count of all the dates
No passenger to load no flag to throw
Just gravity and time moving slow
Fare box empty but the view pays well
Stories etched in rock have much to tell
Driver rests his hands on worn leather wheel
Mesa teaches patience made of steel
Night falls hard on desert pavement seams
Headlights cut through miles of broken dreams
Morning brings the rider back again
Pedals turn like clockwork built for men
Radio static fades to cricket song
Meter dark where tires belong
Two souls watch the same sun paint the stone
Different roads but same way home
Sun hits mesa gold and cyclist waits
Canyon walls keep count of all the dates
No passenger to load no flag to throw
Just gravity and time moving slow
Kickstand sinks in sand warmed by the day
Rider wipes the sweat and dust away
Cabbie starts the engine pulls from curb
Both know what the desert won't disturb
Sun hits mesa gold and cyclist waits
Canyon walls keep count of all the dates
No passenger to load no flag to throw
Just gravity and time moving slow
Sun hits mesa gold and cyclist waits
Wheels turn slow on paths the maps don't show
Mesa keeps the secrets that we know
