My big brother rode an Indian Scout, it was black like his jacket
American Spirit hangin' outta his mouth, just like our daddy
He kick-started that bike one night and broke mama's heart
He pointed that headlight west, out where the wild things are
He'd call me up every couple of weeks from South California
Talk about the desert and the Joshua Tree and his pretty girl stories
And how he bought an Air stream trailer and a J-45 guitar
Said, "Little brother, you'd love it out here, out where the wild things are"
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