He wipes the edge with a heavy cloth
Drawing the light like a midnight moth
The silver gleams in the desert heat
Where red sand burns underneath his feet
Silver and sage on the open road
Carrying out a heavy load
The highway hums a low steady tune
Under the glare of a white salt moon
The *Saguaro* stands like a frozen ghost
Watching the waste of the western coast
He checks the grain for a jagged chip
While the hot wind makes the leather slip
The *Prosopis* grows in the dry ravine
The hardest root that he's ever seen
He polishes steel till the surface glows
While the black asphalt just winds and flows
Silver and sage on the open road
Carrying out a heavy load
The highway hums a low steady tune
Under the glare of a white salt moon
The metal tastes like a bitter brine
Crossing a jagged and broken line
One final stroke for a lethal cut
The door to the wasteland is firmly shut
He sheathes the blade with a heavy click
The desert air is a golden thick
The road stretches out to the distant blue
Bringing a vision of something new
Silver and sage on the open road
Carrying out a heavy load
The highway hums a low steady tune
Under the glare of a white salt moon
Silver and sage.
Just silver and sage.
Keep it clean.
Silver and sage.
