Besedila: Low. C'mon. Done.

Left my lair
To the wind and the sand
With blood on my lips
And silver in hand

And I'm weary and stumbling
In the desert heat
Where raindrops, they burn up
Before they reach your cheek
Your cheek, your cheek

And if you see my love
And if you see my love
And if you see my love
Tell her I'm done