Out in the desert on a quiet day
no wind blows this way
The beating sun slowly disappears
with end of day
As crimson skies gives beauty
to parched lands
That once was overshadowed
by sifting sands
Night sounds begin to squeak
like a creaky old bridge
Now that the breeze gently
stirs over the ridge
With hungry vultures flying low
eying for prey
Late in their hunt by the heat
of the long day
Out in the desert on a windless
quiet day
Is not the place to be when the sun
is hard at play
But in the coolness of the
crimson night air
Desert Life resumes with a
beautiful flair
