The asphalt ribbon burns a line
Across the salt and jagged pine
I cast my net in shimmering heat
Where desert air and distance meet
Watching the road till the colors go grey
Holding the line at the end of the day
Sifting the wind for a sign of the deep
While the red canyon falls fast asleep
A silver flash on a distant hood
I stood right here where my father stood
The copper hills hold a steady glow
Watching the heavy tankers go slow
Watching the road till the colors go grey
Holding the line at the end of the day
Sifting the wind for a sign of the deep
While the red canyon falls fast asleep
You lean your head on the rusted gate
Two quiet souls in a patient state
The scent of sage and the cooling stone
A shared kind of peace when we are alone
Watching the road till the colors go grey
Holding the line at the end of the day
Sifting the wind for a sign of the deep
While the red canyon falls fast asleep
The headlights blink like a distant star
Telling us exactly where we are
The river bed is a dry white bone
The only map that we have ever known
Low hum of tires on a midnight track
The kind of pull that brings the spirit back
No water here but the thirst in the vein
Waiting for one single drop of the rain
The moon climbs up through a violet haze
Lighting the path of the wanderer's gaze
We keep the watch by the painted line
Two lonely hearts in a steady design
Watching the road till the colors go grey
Holding the line at the end of the day
Sifting the wind for a sign of the deep
While the red canyon falls fast asleep
Hold the line tight
In the blue light
