Desert Tides
High noon on a dusty street
Nobody speaks, nobody moves
Two men thirty paces apart (ahhhh)
Thirty paces, one single draw
No second chances under this sun
The wind holds its breath for the final law (ooh-wah-ooh-wah)
A tumbleweed rolls in the space between
The whole town watching behind the wood
Sweat on the brow of the unforeseen (hmmmm)
Thirty paces, one single draw
No second chances under this sun
The wind holds its breath for the final law (ooh-wah-ooh-wah)
Thirty paces...