my lover is like a desert land
she doesn’t give her self away
never an audience to my play
even when i have her in my hand
she rejects my flattery
but it is than, that my love for her grows wild and free
my lover is like a desert land
she has a shining clean purity
and if I am a little dirty
even when i have her in my hand
she won’t let me close, won’t yield to me
but it is than, that my love for her grows wild and free
she doesn’t like it when i speak
she says that all my lies than leak
even when I’m whist
as if i don’t worth
a spit
surely she doesn’t forget
and still doesn’t exempt
as time goes
she would have left
unless she thought, maybe, that
she’ll find sweet water between my doors
my lover is like a desert land
she stings like a scorpion, hurts like the stone’s end
she goes through the bone like a cold eastern wind
even when i have her in my hand
leaves me high and dry, abandons me
but it is than, that my love for her grows wild and free
but it is than, that my love for her grows wild and free
but it is than, that my love for her grows wild and free