Alamagordo

Started in west Texas
Ill-begotten walk
Wasn't until Alamogordo
That we could barely talk

I said I wanted a compass
He sweetly squinted his eyes
And started out directionless
Beneath the sweltering sky

Finders keepers
Losers weepers

Gypsum, jetsam, flotsam
Began to fill my mouth
I read somewhere
I tripped and fell
I think I was rolling south

The one who came and saved me
Seventy-six years old
Papery white and blue-veined arms
That certainly took hold

Finders keepers
Losers weepers
Finders keepers
Losers weepers

I said, finders keepers
Is what I said to him
Finders keepers
I’m giving myself to Jim