'On Traveling in the New Mexico Desert'
Come sit with me awhile-
I'm shivering with cold
and I think that I done wrong.
My youth is dying
in the New Mexico desert
and I need a steadying hand
to calm it on its way.
Oh it's cold, so cold-
touch its hands,
it's alright, I swear,
he don't feel a thing.
I've sat vigil all night,
waiting for the sun to rise,
to spread a blanket over-
waiting to move on.
I'm shivering with cold
and I think I done wrong-
waiting for my youth to die.
But it'll be better
when it's gone.
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