Dust Bowl

Written by Crybaby®™
©2004


Desert highway, dust blue sky
So hot the future turns to water one mile high
The horizon one junction up
Desert highway, rust red ride

Time turns to hunger one mile deep inside
Pull over dusted shoulder
Door swings out
Loud it speaks open.

Worn out diner
a worn out woman inside
Her gum slaps back the humidity
Ricochet against her tongue
Coffee is poured out into
Distressed cup cradled in a saucer

Yes, I would like cream and sugar with that
And I want to place my order now
The jukebox sings only one song it knows
The quarters expired
One kick keeps it going.

Sing me a song of a lonesome town
Dust bowl Guthrie hole
With lonesome people passing through
An exit sign
That is all they learned to do
It shows in their spurs and slurs
And a fake strand of pearls

Heat beating against ground
Bruised with browns and yellows
Sky beaten to a darker blue,
Beater rusted to rust and crumble
Soaked against a hairline crying
Another bead of heated waiting around
For something new to walk through the revolving door