I heard gunshots—nothing major, just some i***t in the Tucker train shooting at the sky.
So I went to the park and I took some paper along / And that’s where I made this song ...
And then it started, the Apache firing two Hellfire missiles which hit a group of pickups at the start of the train and instantly blew them to pieces, glass and shrapnel flying, a body tumbling in the air.
We talk real funny down here / We drink too much, we laugh too loud / We’re too dumb to make it in no northern town ...
Two more missiles fired, this time at the other end of the train, blowing pickups and blue flags into the air, sending a cab higher than anything else—like the turrets of those Iraqi tanks in the first Gulf War—hurling a Rugged Terrain tire along the ridge, which eventually rolled down the
