Michael Timmins Murder tonight in the trailer park. Mrs. Annabelle Evans found with her throat cut after dark. Her pockets turned inside out her dresser
Michael Timmins It's the kind of night that's so cold when you spit it freezes before it hits the ground. And when a bum asks you for a quarter you
Michael Timmins Emma's in a part of town where she doesn't recognize the streets named for famous native sons and out of every crevice comes creeping
Greasy eggs and bacon, bumper stickers aimed to start a fight, full gun racks, Confederate caps, if you want some 'shine well you can always find some more
200 more miles of rain asphalt in line before I sleep But there'll be no warm sheets or welcoming arms to fall into tonight I've got 200 more miles
