From the album A Boy Named Suicide
RIDING THE BULLET
Talking to himself on the side of the road with a newspaper blanket in the freezing cold. Standing all alone in the pouring rain with no dignity to lose or respect to gain. Banished by his family and now Uncle Sam. His river of dreams is now society’s dam. The best friend he had was killed in the war and when he returned his wife was a whore. Deployed as a hero, they said “gods on your side”. Returned a convicted felon, condemned for your pride. Drafted at 18 you were forced to enlist. To the American public you no longer exist. Now he lives in Perris down on Fourth Street. Junkies chase the bag and the homeless drink whiskey. La Unica Park, Lake Elsinore’s Main Street, chasing a dragon that’s full of deceit. Somewhere along the outskirts of town a forgotten soldier is found and the only thing that he has to think about is taking his gun and blowing his own brains out.