at midnight
We were the first ones there
Whiskey smelling in the chill night air
A lot of his stuff had been thrown clear
But the driver was gone
Up the mountain with the porcupine
and bear
Bags and keys in the brush, but no
blood on the trail
His papers said he lived on
Bullethole Road
It took awhile for the cops to come
And when he did, he waved his arms around
And said, If you didn't see it happen
You got no business here
Go on, get going, he hollered
Get on out of here
So we did as we were told
His papers said he lived on Bullethole Road
Don't know what hit him
If he'd been riding a train full of false love
Or if he'd been slain in his soul
And here I am riding with strangers
Down avenues I don't know
Riding with strangers
And one of them says
Let's go down to Bullethole Road
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