The Desert Fox

I've come to realize that my main priority right now
is to reclaim the concept of the tourist.
See, lately I've been spending all of my free time
with Teddy Roosevelt, Chuck Yeagar and General Patton.
I've met Stonewall Jackson, but we haven't gotten close yet.

When you live in the desert, there is no way out but forward.
Directions lose their purpose
and stars become only a tantalizing hope of salvation.
There is no salvation in the desert,
so the tanks have to carry on,
pushing through the sand until the treads fall off.
Only then can you learn how to use your feet.

See, the thing is, if you destroy enough lives
people will learn to love you unconditionally.
Endurance is found through the destruction of living tissue.
Muscles regenerate, but the heart fails.
And when it does fail, there is no salvation.

I am an inventor.
I did not create the human experience,
but I invented my own.

So go ahead and protect yourself woman,
your brand of salvation is the kind that
forsakes the ones that loved you the most.
Little do you understand, we're destined to have the same fate-
we're all going to return to the ground one day.
Some will do so sooner than others.

Except your heart pumps oil.
The thick black kind that lubricates
the pistons of legacy.
A sick kind of churning happens inside.

I can push my legs far past failure
and then my inner nature comes out.
When I'm climbing a hill,
it's like I'm a mountain lion looking for shelter.
But there is no such thing.
It's just men with rifles that go home
to women who go about their business
of saving the children.
Except it's not about the children.
No, in fact is has nothing to do with discovering yourself
and everything to do with consuming.

She was handed a life that was not her own
and became convinced that she was saving the world.
And although she may seem as steady and stiff as a tree,
one day she will fall like the rest.
Nature is a destructive creature,
and only through death can there be new life.

When you look into your child's eyes for the first time,
think about me and those that you've forsaken
and know that this child is not as pure as you think you may be.
The only pure thing is gold and silver,
so you wear it on your finger
to remind yourself of a love that you may easily forget.
If you haven't forgotten it by now,
you surely will when you're ten feet under ground.

The best thing to do is to chop down all the trees
so that your baby has nothing left to breathe.
You'll set them all on fire,
convincing yourself that you're making room
for your next new love.
There will be nothing left but ash and smoke,
there always is.
And we'll give you a name that's fitting,
for where there is fire, there is Ash.

It's people like you who are destroying the earth,
for your love is a poisonous secretion.
And the acid your body produces
will cause your lover's heart to fail.
It's ok, because at the end of the day
we're just a bag of bones who have fallen asleep
dreaming of better things...

So instead, I call to tell you that I am trying
to create and construct, yet
your agenda is only to destruct.

And I hope I never see you again,
because I'll be on tour in the mountains and desert
discovering why I could never belong on your earth.