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A desert’s heat can scorch your soul,

and turn your flesh to dust,

or drive a sane man crazed with greed,

possessed by treasure’s lust.



Old Cactus Jack, trudged into town,

one hell hot afternoon,

with a cheek of chew, and his burro Sue,

humming a cowboy tune.  



Now sly old Jack was a crazy quack,

one loco son-of-a-gun,

with a short quick fuse, from rotgut booze,

and too much desert sun.



He hitched up Sue, and dusted off,

strode into Kate’s Hotel,        

for a drink of hooch, a gal to smooch,

and a bath to kill the smell.



Kate saw that guy with a skeptic’s eye,

‘cause she figured him for broke,

till he reached inside his tattered shirt

and removed a hefty poke.



What spilled across the old oak bar,

in a tale that’s oft’ retold,

to Kate’s delight, was sparkling bright,

‘n all that glittering gold.



For years old Jack had grubbed for gold,

and never saved a dime,

but he’d searched around, ’n claimed he found,

the old Lost Dutchman’s Mine.



Now the legend says, that years ago,

a Dutchman’s son named Jake,

had found a long lost vein of gold,

but never filed his stake.



He died before he made his claim,

struck dead ‘for he’d begun.

They found his bones some time ago,

bleached white by the broiling sun.



A desert’s heat can scorch your soul,

and turn your flesh to dust,

or drive a sane man crazed with greed,

possessed by treasure’s lust.



Kate flirted some, and feigned concern,

‘bout  Cactus Jack’s good health,

but truth be known, her interests stayed,

with the crazy coots new wealth.



He spent two days with gals and drink,

old Jack sure did unwind,

then headed back to work his claim....

with Kate not far behind.



The days are like the flames of hell,

the nights turn bitter cold,

but it matters nil, in the desert waste,

when all that glitters is gold.



Now Jack trod straight, at a blistering gait,

with his faithful burro Sue,

till he found the rocks he was looking for,

shaped just like a high top shoe.



There at the base you could see it shine,

sparkling bright in the sun,

and as old Jack knelt, to dig his wealth,

Kate aimed and fired her gun.



He went down quick, with a single shot,

one bullet to the back,

and his burro fled, while the old coot bled....

‘twas the end of Cactus Jack.



The Dutchman’s claim was Kate’s ill gain,

but little did she know,

that the desert gives up treasure hard,

tormenting victims slow.



Kate wandered lost for three long days,

while the desert seared her soul.

She died of thirst, with old Jack‘s purse,

filled with the glittering gold.



They found her bones, quite far from home,

‘cause she never made it back,

and as for the Dutchman’s long lost mine....

they never found old Jack



A desert’s heat can scorch your soul,

and turn your flesh to dust,

or drive a sane man crazed with greed,

possessed by treasure’s lust.