Bordertown

                                                                                                                       Robert Wills,  Nov 5, 91

Down south of the border, is a town that is known by no name

It was there I first met her,

She and that one horse town were one and the same

It was the fifth of November a time I still remember with pain

I was hell bent for bingo,

And I hitchhiked down from Prescott in the rain

     With quarters and loonies and a heart full of hopes I arrived

     At the outskirts of Bordertown

     No one ever leaves here alive

She was driving a cube van with a false bottom hidden below

She pulled into the truck stop and said,

"Fill 'er up before this rain turns into snow"

She was tall blond and handsome though she claimed to have Indian blood

The blond hair came from Vikings, she said,

"My mother's folks were here before the Flood"

     With cases of cigarettes, and two hundred gallons of gas

     She was headed for Bordertown, where folks aren't ashamed of the past

She was strong and persuasive with a voice as deep as a man's

When I spoke of the future she said I shouldn't make so many plans

When we came to the roadblock, it said,

"Border crossing closed because of strike"

She said, "I'm not pulling over, those gringos can do just what they like"

          She reached for me, and naturally, I thought

          that we were falling in love

          Before I could kiss her, she opened the door,

          Put a boot to my shoulder, and gave me a shove

I remember the sirens, I remember red and blue flashing lights

I woke up the next morning,

And I don't recall where she dropped me off that night

     Now she's patching up bullet holes, and painting the van red and white

     On the backstreets of Bordertown,

     In a backyard garage, late at night

     With cases of cigarettes, and two hundred gallons of gas

     She was headed for Bordertown,

     Where folks aren't ashamed of the past...