Desert Tongues

I flew in from Bonneville.
It was far too salty and flat for my tastes.
I thought I might find you out there racing.

I walked out of the Gobi.
Sand and wind aren’t my cup of tea.
I spent 3 long years searching for your bones.

I left the Sahara.
My skin was getting leathery and the sand got in my radio.
I bribed nomad after nomad, but no news of you though.