I followed down a wash
My boots a little too tight;
Winding up with a deicious peace
And an angry blister.
It was on a bombing range,
Yuam County, Arizona,
Where even as an American citizen
I was tagged, watched and ostrasized.
You know about the mountain lion
With which I locked eyes there;
The she scampered off into the barrens
Double-time.
Later, on the highway looking back,
That mountain exploded,
The lion vaporiized along with my trail:
