In the desert, where the cities are made of gold,
there’s a girl playing hopscotch with pink ribbon pigtails.
And hermom calls out from an apartment balcony,
“Come on, baby! Your bath is ready! It’s almost time for sleep!”
And I wonder who’s the father…
And I wonder what they call her – Sierra.
Does her mother smoke, or does she jog every morning?
Does she drink when she thinks about me?
Or doesn’t she need to drink… does she have a man who works a nine to five?
Does he come home to kiss our young Sierra, tuck her in and say goodnight?
(And an extra kiss for mama…)
I want that kiss, that kid, that apartment.
I’m ready to settle down now, so get that man out of my bed.
I want my daughter back now, I want to kiss her,
tuck her in and say, “goodnight, my baby girl, Sierra.”
Sierra, Sierra, Sierra, Sierra,
I’ll never know who you are, and I don’t deserve to.
My little girl, we would’ve been so… oh, nevermind.
But I’m ready to settle down now – yeah, I’m ready to leave that wrecking ball behind.
I could be your carpenter, and you could be my twinkling north star o’er the desert sky.
