He lay his blanket underneath the freeway. As the evening sky grew dark. Took a sniff of toncho from his cocaine. And headed thru Balboa Park. Where the men in their Mercedes. Come nightly to employ. In the cool San Diego evening. The services of the border boys. He grew up near the Zona Norte. With the hustlers and smugglers he hung out with. He swallowed their balloons of cocaine. Brought them across to the 12th streetstrip. Sleepin' in a shelter. If the night got to cold. Runnin' from the migra. Of the border patrol. Past the salvage yard 'cross the train tracks. And in thru the storm drain. They stretched their blankets out 'neath the freeway. And each one took a name. There was X-man and Cochise. Little Spider his sneakers covered in river mud. They come north to California. End up with the poison in their blood. He did what he had to for the money. Sometimes he sent home what he could spare. The rest went to high-top sneakers and toncho. And jeans like the gavachos wear. One night the border patrol swept 12th Street. A big car came fast down the Boulevard. Spider stood caught in its headlights. Got hit and went down hard. As the car sped away=20. Spider held his stomachLimped to his blanket 'neath the freeway. Lay there tasting his own blood on his tongue. Closed his eyes and listened to he cars. Rushin' by so fast.