Sometimes I dream of a far away land,
Of cactus and tumbleweed,
Sage brush, and sand,
Where prairie dogs play,
And the sidewinder lies,
And the dessert , it stretches way out to the sky,
Where the air is dry, and the days, are hot,
And the weather is sunny, more often than not,
There I'd build a home, by day,
Of adobe bricks, stones, and clay,
And by the light of a silvery moon,
I'd drift off to sleep, by a coyote's tune.
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