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The mayor was out running his mouth

So I shot him

Our bombs are the beat and our beats hit the sand

And the sands from the earth span the sky

Our wings clap a wind which carries a storm

Forming dunes on the moon on a solar high

My shotgun barrel smokes and my pickup burns

Tracks along the concrete desert divider

Life in the lane of a bat country

Where a breeze is my flow and the sun is my guider

An eighteen wheeled companion joins my cruisade

Armed with rollup, bourbon and beard

Together we scale this scorched earth around us

This outback home where I was born and reared

A calming moment of oasis peace

Plants the perfect scope in my sight

As the great sphere moves in the galaxy

It drains the world of its light

My brother as he tips his cap to me

I know he will change his course

Darkness creeps with a riders force

And I roll thick into the night