The wind from the Southwest blows mean around here
It comes up when you don’t think it will
I can tell by the sound that the Junipers make
‘Cross the creek a ways, just up the hill

The sky gets all hazy and the sun dims a bit
Although there are no clouds around
It’s dry as a bone here so all that red dust
Is just waitin to fly off the ground

It’s as fine as the talcum in a girl’s makeup case
It’ll clog up your eyes and your nose
Fill up the filter on your Ford pickup truck
Even go through your socks to your toes

Got to hose off the windows and dust off the shelves
It’s an everyday summertime thing
It’ll stop when the winter comes in with a roar
But it turns to slick mud in the Spring

Now I ain’t complainin so don’t get me wrong
In fact I believe it’s just fine
Because even though dirt can be pesky you see
I do love the fact that it’s mine