I look for new land, find only sand,
My feet unhappy without socks.
Long time ago, when I ate avocados,
With my hands I could crush mighty rocks.
Now a miserable whiny wimp, a desert pimp,
I help travelers find hookers for free.
In the cave I live, I only have a sieve,
With which I can make my morning tea.
I'm not bright, I squint in light,
Perhaps the shimmering is a mirage.
I wouldn't really know, it could be a ho,
A pricey pretty girl behind a barrage.
Well maybe this world isn't real,
Or maybe I'm finally dead.
I feel a gnawing pain, a shift in gain,
This sun has got inside my head.
