| Out in the red rock desert
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| Sitting on the roof of my car
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| Drinking cans of warm beer
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| Watching the sky get dark
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| Gail and I shot our empties
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| With an old rusted rifle
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| Her golden hair went flying
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| Like a wild brush fire
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| When the mountains turn red at dusk
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| Time passed in the burning desert
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| And the tumbleweeds, they tumbled
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| We lay in a golden fire
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| As the screaming buzzards circled
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| Far down the darkened valley
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| The city lights still twinkle
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| But my eyes saw only beauty
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| And her hair in golden fire
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| When the mountains turn red at dusk
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| But the fire burned right through her
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| It followed unseen voices
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| They led her to the city
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| Deep in the darkened valley
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| I drove circles through the alleys
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| Calling my burning lover
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| But Gail ran deeper into the gloom
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| Screaming at the streetlights
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| And I lost her there forever
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| Deep in the valley’s darkness
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| My Gail with the golden hair
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| That burned as bright as fire
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| When the mountains turn red at dusk |