The Spur - Joan Shelley

In the heat of the desert sun On the blistering trail An appaloosa and A wanted man sprung from jail Slow in motion and shadowless The switch and the spurs Every living thing, with a fatal sting Bark and rattle this curse The rider hallucinates The snapping hooves on the sand Spits a venom dream, recalls a stranger scream And a broken hand The saddle spotted with sweat and blood The poison pumps through his veins There's no stopping this, and now he's powerless Still holding the reigns Any poor souls who trespass against us Whether it be beast or man Will suffer the bite or be stung dead on sight By those who inhabit this land For theirs is the power and this is their kingdom As sure as the sun does burn So enter this path, but heed these four words You shall never return Any poor souls who trespass against us Whether it be beast or man Will suffer the bite or be stung dead on sight By those who inhabit this land For theirs is the power and this is their kingdom As sure as the sun does burn So enter this path, but heed these four words, You shall never return