Dying sun pours down from the heavens into the Gods' garden
It drips onto the ruby spires, cooked red from the rust and rays.
I'm dreaming again of far away places, of a city by the sea,
A desert where I may earn my wings.

The stars gleam steady tonight, no twinkling or shimmering
They've readied themselves as patrons, sentinels,
Guides through painted deserts and self discovery
We'll use them as a road map with our restless hearts as a compass

The flame licks higher and higher as he and I discuss our lives
We two are adventurers, tamed by and taming our wanderlust
The smoke burns my eyes, but I keep them open anyway
Its not a right of passage, but a desire to see everything
To experience even pain if necessary

I'm dreaming again of far away places, of a city by the sea
A desert where I may earn my wings.