Desert Rat - Hot Buttered Rum

I’ve taken great interest in the surface of things

I’m not looking for a deeper meaning than a lung full of wood-smoke

the feel of my sister’s hand in my hand

I was born in Tucson

and I got my ass kicked by the Viet Cong

I guess they were just getting along

I might have done the same in their shoes

the mountains gutted by strip mines

the deserts criss-crossed by power lines

they drown the canyon so the city can have fuel

but I can’t get away from the day to day

I can only sing of ordinary motion

snow melting, and moving towards the ocean

the powers that be won’t let me be

the powers that be won’t let me be

and the war and the mall and the sprawl are part of the same machine

and it’s no damn simple thing like a conspiracy

what’s a desert rat to do

when he’s shakin' in his shoes?

when coyote’s on the loose

what’s a desert rat to do?

the altar was torn down

the machine defiled my sacred ground

so I stand above the desert sand

with a monkey wrench in my hand

I am not a patient man

I am not a patient man

I measure desert distance with beer cans

as I drive the valleys and I drive the crest

I feel a dangerous howl

living deep with in my chest