On the soft grass walks a lonely ranger
Down by the dry lakes, seeking comfort
Missing his true love, the evil angel

By her fierce battling tongue, he has been hurt
In the freezing wind, at peace, he clears his mind
Told to seek love elsewhere, if it be worth

This place, whatever it is, he cannot find
More confused then ever, without any hope
He stands, the dark light shining from behind

In darkness, will shadows guide him to cope?
Or lead him to light, say it is all well?
The answer is dirty, like filthy soap
Like purgatory, not heaven nor hell