Lyrics:

Dusk is, is a very different experience in the pastoral
Unblemished surroundings of the mountains
I truly believe that there is no such thing as dusk in the city
Think about it
After you spend a day in a society whose prevailing philosophy is
'Why make small problems when you can create a holocaust?'
Then you must then navigate your way home
With a society who maintains the same philosophy in their driving
Yeah, there is no such thing as dusk in the city
Well, now I sit on the porch of an old run down cabin
In a chair that squeaked just looking at it
Embracing the deep unspoiled, tranquility of dusk
Every sound was as sharp as broken glass
I could even hear the steam rise
From the hot cup of freshly brewed coffee
I held in my sore, blistered, virgin hands
The sun was setting on tall pines
That reached their heads to the deep azure sky
Dusted with wisps of ash orange
I leaned up against the cabin wall
And was just about ready to put the light out
On the big Cuban I was chewing on
And you know, I realized
The shadow working its way toward me
Wasn't a shadow
Now, I hadn't seen a soul in this neck of the woods all week long
Although, it wasn't all that uncommon
To see some folk mosey by with a friendly, 'Hi'
Casual wave on their way to the top of the mountain
But it was quite uncommon to see a lady
Dressed in a long, flowing white gown
Her deep auburn hair
Shone bronze and gold in the setting sun
Her eyes alight
Like a fire staring at me from way inside her
Like an animal looking out from the brush
'Course, I took this moment about as light heartedly as a coronary
Felt the deafening roar of silence inside me when she said
'Mister, you're sitting on my chair'
Her sheer smoothness was alien, even intimidating
She grabbed my hand, and led me inside the cabin
We walked to the large room I called the living room and
She pulled back an ancient rug to reveal a hinged door
The door led to a spiral staircase, and before I knew it
We stood at the bottom of the staircase
Facing a remote, majestic chap in
Regal looking boots and a double-humped camel by his side
She called him, Frank, the chap
We spent the better half of the next four days
Traveling sand dunes and hard winds
On two occasions, I thought I would be left behind
But Frank hefted me on the camel after
Cooling my parched lips with a little water that we had left
On the fourth day, we reached a long, quiet oasis
And I dived for rich, deep water
Ignoring groups of two-headed lizards and other assorted creatures
Within hours, I was awakened by the lady in the long flowing gown
Her index finger pressed to her lips
We were besieged by a band of Arab raiders
The three of us were captured trying to escape
Out the backside of the oasis, and held prisoner for
As near as I could calculate, eight days
I must have passed out from the lack of food
Because I don't recall how I got on board an old freight boat
We were headed down the thick, brown waters
Of the wide river with thick jungle on both sides
It was just her and I again
Somehow, we had escaped
Frank, again
Slipping me onboard this stinky ship
Before he caught a half dozen arrows in the back
We drifted for days
Most of the time in thick fog and torrential rain
She and I talked about our past
And our futures if we ever got out of this mess
Well, I'd lost all track of time, but
One morning I woke up to the melody of birds
And a streak of sunlight across the window of my room below deck
A note laid beside my head on the pillow
I stuck it in my shirt pocket and climbed the stairs
Grabbed a tin cup of coffee
And sat on the bow to read the note
She was gone
Apparently, earlier in the morning
On a small fishing boat passing the other way
She simply wrote
'Unfinished business
You'll understand'
Well, here I am
A few years later
A few years older
I'm romancing another beautiful dusk
In the mountains
On the porch of an old, familiar cabin
There is no chair this time
It was replaced by a note
She simply wrote
'Love is a rare opportunity
And when that love is somehow parted
It's something deep, down inside
That wants just a reminder
A slice of memory
A possession'
'I thought you might want to know
Why I came for Frank's favorite chair
Now, you understand
There is no such thing as dusk in the city'