Desert

There's a body in the desert
Smell of skin baking in the heat
Who did he leave unpleased?

His face half-buried in the sun
Other half buried in the sand
With thorns piercing his lip
Biting on a Hemlock leaf, with his teeth
Battling this urge to breathe

I went to his town past the dune, past the hill
I said, "He's dead, the boy is deceased!"

They were gathering cement
To drown his body in the sea
"Good thing he died a kid, never had a kid
No one needs his disease

If we isolate him long enough
It'll never get its hands on us
And we'll never shake with terror
At the face in the mirror
And we'll never show love -
We're not vulnerable
Like his skin cracked by the sun
Oh by the sun"

I saw his tattoo on his arm
Asking, "Who holds the stars above?"
Please treat his body with peace
He used to think and
He used to breathe

But they were gathering cement
To drown his body in the sea
"Good thing he died a kid, never had a kid
No one needs his disease -
Man, you're not from round here
What's the matter with you?"