130: valley of the gods

It was like no one else saw those mountains, those golden deserts, until we stepped in it,
drove through its sand, burning man at noon.
Man-made oasis, green paradise faded on the second go-around
And notes travel farther on flat land. We are a commune of strangers, deserted life
always looking for that pinnacle. Rich wasted youth with a motive. Bare feet on dry land,
skin fed to the sun.
Everything consumed to the tune of a dying riff.
One last cheer for the Space Man, and the satellite ashes we never saw.
Dust in our eyes, galaxies formed and turned to rust.