This here place of old,
was where gunfighters came to cry.
Bleeding streams of molten lead
from haunted silver eyes.
The G.O.D.S. owed us our lives by now,
and fateful love in kind.
But not a single one of us,
remembered how to die.
The darkness smouldered high above,
we drank the arid ether.
Ambrosian hues embraced our hearts
and shimmered in our minds.
The haze had now seduced my soul,
I needed a way out.
While vivid rains and fragrant bloom,
both did their part to soothe;
the theory of her distant grace
compelled with strange allure.
Upon the shores of native summer,
found ourselves advanced.
A long way come, but not too far.
No, not yet too far gone;
I took her gaze, then stole a kiss
and surged between the lines.
Escaped in love that broke us free;
found home within her sight.