Desert Chapel Trade
(mhhhhh) Between the rows of quiet books Where shadows fall and pages rest
He stands beside the traffic lane A plastic bottle at his chest
He trades a story for a spark
A secret whispered in the dark
(ahhhh) An empty glass,
a lighter flame
He sells the water,
keeps the name
Inside this dim and dusty aisle
We find the chapel in his smile (mhhhhh)
(flicker... spark...)
(spark...
dark...)