Desert storms still blow today.
Today desert storm blew some sand to where my heads at, I'm once again reminded I'm still there, with sun scorched skin and sand stuck in my hair.
I breathed the dust from Beau Gests lost, I paid the price for Blairs cost, I wish I wasn't here with sun scorched skin and sand still in my hair.
They blew the storm and wont be wrong, my friends and I no longer strong but do they really care for sun scorched toms sand forever in their hair.
In this circle I see damaged people torn by drink but getting stable and I'm sat in this chair a damaged guy with a thousand mile stare, head in hands sand falling from my hair.
We breathed the dust from Beau Gest lost, has he breathed dust from another's cost, but nobody ever leaves here, we walk around with sand forever in our hair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem