| When I’m walking alone in the night I see the green coyote in the distance
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| Strolling in the desert long beneath the crescent moon
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| In the boomerang action of the noon gang I climb the hills and I wonder
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| Thunder and the lightning falls into a barren zone
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| Maybe someone saw me in the forest last Wednesday night, I don’t know.
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| I visit all the time but then again I try to not to be seen, in the green.
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| 'Cause I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night.
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| I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night.
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| I look at the bones, purplish tones, across the valley painted by the sage
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| brush
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| Driest open prairie waiting for the fallen stars.
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| On a rock edge hanging off a steep ledge I climb on down into an oak tree
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| Rolling in it’s twisted limbs I float above the ground
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| Running from a rolling angry tumbleweed down a hill, in the wind
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| Sliding on the gravelly traveling avalanches on the slope, in the plain
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| 'Cause I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night.
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| I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night.
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| On the high ground, shaken by a low sound, the desert looming in the
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| distance
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| Looking at the sunlight dying through the blackened ridge
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| Water out of nowhere, flying through the air, I see the tidal wave and I’m
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| under
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| Holding in my breath I sink into the desert sea
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| Swimming through the turning and churning into the afternoon sun, up above
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| Floating river canyon abandoned by sand and heat and all the rocks, on the
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| plain
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| 'Cause I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night
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| I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night.
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| I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night.
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| I’m a mountain jumper, when I ride the night… |