Lonely Mountain

Sitting alone in my disposition

Surrounded by rolling dirt

In the shadow of the Superstition

I’m drenched in my stagnant perspiration

Sweating for all that it’s worth

While I give her a standing ovation

Shadows move out of their obligation

Of the Sun’s billowing skirt

While he burns bright in his grand elation

A coyote howls in its captivation

As a snake rattles its mirth

Dancing around in their demonstration

A sharp cactus strikes with great conviction

At a leg that’s bare and hurt

Standing tall in its gratification

I walk in the valley of misconception

A summer sun burns the Earth

My mind swims with this premonition

That shrouds in shadows the Superstition