Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol
Come and rescue me.

Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol
I'm in such dire straits

Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol
I'm sending you an SOS

Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol, Oh Border Patrol
Come and save my soul.

Note the reference in the last line, to the acronym in the preceding verse; a linguistic rhyme.

Inspired by the Customs and Border Patrol helicopter that circled me as I stood half-naked out in the desert, washing my face after a nice shave. The helicopter landed nearby, and sent a lady Border Patrol Agent bearing a water bottle to check on me.

"You like staying out here?" she asked, skeptically. I moved my gaze from her to the Growler Mountains in the distance, and beyond them through the pass the Granite Mountains I think, jagged in the west, in the haze of the soon-approaching sunset, and said: "I love it."