Song Description
An artist is a person that has dedicated his life to the search for the beautiful. A Beauty Hunter--on a hunt within himself and a ride into exile. Like the Old West bounty hunter, occasionally he loses the scent of the trail and then he wonders if the rigors and privations of the pursuit are worth it, or if he is still even capable. He sees other men living at ease and he'd like to come in out of the cold, too. But he rides on, hoping and hunting--because once he begins to have doubts, it is too late to turn back.
Song Length |
6:00 |
Genre |
Unique - Polka |
Lyrics
Dead or alive
The lawman wonders
Is the convict free
Or six feet under
But he'll track him down
He's a beauty hunter.
No man's land
And beyond it.
He's on the trail
Of dreams absconded
And of hopes
Mistakenly bonded
He rides the wastelands, following the trail
Of skeletons of feelings busted out of jail
Protruding from the sand dunes, point the bones of truant joys,
Leading to a woman of silver and turquoise.
The treasure's weight
And its lost luster
A clear cut trail
Of discarded plunder
He'll ride them down
He's a beauty hunter.
Through parts unknown
Leads his map of duty
His eyes are clear
But his heart unruly
X marks the spot--
He's hunting lost beauty.
"Step into my parlor."
"Cowboy, you're dying."
See the girls of pleasure
dancing round and round
"Come do the min-u--et dear,
lay your gun belt down."
Cigar smoke and rose water
Crystal, brass and lace,
Laudanum and absinthe
On their lips the faintest trace.