At the time I wrote this I was listening to a bunch of spaghetti western music. This is my humble attempt. Creating a scene of a mysterious stranger with no name and no past to speak of. The production was a bit of a challenge. The first movement and end movements bookend the western middle bit. Lots of double tracked guitars with really short delay times. Mellotron and brass horn patches help me create a dusty desert soundscape.

Lyrics

Home is just a state of mind when you belong nowhere.
Cover up your tracks, keep your eyes open wide and burn your bridges down. Cut off all communication we’re past what words can relay.

I am not of your world.
And I am not of your time.
I come bearing secrets.
Hidden in plain sight amongst your kind.

A man with no name has a past to hide.
A man with no name has a past of lies.
Behind the ghost death may hide.