Moonlight

There is a king in Nevada’s heart Where the sagebrush meets the bone He’s been a hunter since the world began And he claims the night as his own. His fur is grey as the mountain mist His eyes are burning gold He’s the keeper of the ancient paths And the stories never told. I followed the scent of the juniper fire Up to the ridge so high I saw the shadow of the Alpha King Against a blood-red sky. He didn’t snarl, he didn’t bite He stood there calm and still The master of the desert wind The spirit of the hill. Oh, Mother, tell your children To watch the rising moon The Alpha’s calling from the canyon floor And he’ll be coming soon. From the cradle to the desert grave We run beneath his light The Wolves of the Desert have found their king In the middle of the night. He bears the scars of a thousand years Of traps and silver lead But you can’t kill what the desert made And you can’t haunt the dead. So pour a drink for the lonesome pack And lock the stable door The Alpha’s shadow is crossing the sand Like he’s done a million times before. He’s the Alpha... The Crimson Sand...