Desolation
(Bob Nolan / Curley Fletcher)
Desolate, destitute desert land ~
Cruel is my terrible, ruthless hand.
Waterless waste of stone and sand.
Weary and worn, tortured and torn,
Am I.
Desolation.
Steeped in eternal starvation am I,
Seared by the withering wind so dry,
Scorched by the blistering sun on high.
Sorrow me not, if thirsty men die,
For I am Desolation , Desolation, Desolation. Desolation.
Where only fanged and the fit survive,
Only the taloned and thorned can thrive,
Withered and warped, more dead than alive,
Scorned and accursed, victim of thirst,
Am I.
Desolation.
Steeped in eternal starvation am I,
Seared by the withering wind so dry,
Scorched by the blistering sun on high.
Sorrow me not, if thirsty men die
For I am Desolation, Desolation, Desolation. Desolation.
(Demo performed by Dave Bourne.)
For permission to record Bob Nolan's music, contact: The Songwriter’s Guild of America
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