They gathered in the city after abandoning the farms.
A silent somber motley crew, full of piss and doing harms.
They hardly drew a notice, just didn’t look the part.
The country cousins consortium, taking mayhem to an art.
They stole and raped and pillaged. Took a dark and fearsome path.
Until they ran into a ringer with a cold and wicked laugh.
There’s a silence in the meadows. She is waiting by the phone.
But her boys don’t call or write. For their sins they must atone.
