From the Turgua Valley to the western corral
I was in Mexico when I did look around.
My footsteps in the sand only led to nowhere
I started following because I didn’t care.
I was wandering all around the west
with my cowboy hat, my tall boots and my Sunday best.
The Sheriff met me and said, “Do you think this is a test?”
And I said, “Let the buzzards decide the rest.”
And when the sun finally did set
my dreams where molded in a hazy silhouette.
The last cactus, that’s before my first cigarette
I was so lost and thirsty he said, “Yes you are the weakest.”
The thunder crackled and it shattered my chest
it split like a mouth and cracked my headrest.
My horse it went galloping and headed out west.
I was left to wander what I knew I thought was best.
A stoner-rock opera with dystopian themes, the Italian band's third LP fuses apocalyptic fury with psychedelic splendor. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 29, 2023