Driving a road late into the night,
snorting lines of courage, hardly any light.
Banging begins from the trunk once again,
God he will never forgive me this sin.

Two thousand dollars, not much of a price,
awful damn cheap for one human life.
You owe and you beg, your knees you did kneel,
the tears you are crying, they are very real.

The mountain road winds high and so steep,
the canyon below, in hell it's so deep.
The guy in the trunk, is quiet for now,
a club knocked him out, a slaughtered cow.

Why did it ever need come down to this,
the guy in the trunk, his sons name is Chris.
Even though now it is fathers day,
when you must play, you always pay.

With all of my strength, i hold up the gun,
I said what the hell, he's had his fun.
Blam, blam and blam barked the forty five,
I finally yell shotgun, I do not want to drive,-Donald Hammond