I slipped on her shoe she was a perfect size 7. I said "There's no smokin' in the store ma'am"She crossed her legs and then. We made some small talk that's where it should have stopped. She slipped me her number I put it in my pocket. My hand slipped up her skirt everything slipped my mind. In that little roadhouse. On highway 29. It was a small town bank it was a mess. Well I had a gun you know the rest. Money on the floorboards shirt was covered in blood. And she was cryin' her and me we headed south. On highway 29. In a little desert motel the air was hot and clean. I slept the sleep of the dead I didn't dream. I woke in the morning washed my face in the sink. We headed into the Sierra Madres 'cross the border line. The winter sun shot thru the black trees. I told myself it was all something in her. But as we drove I knew it was something in me. Something that had been comin' for a long time. And something that was here with me now. On highway 29. The road was filled with broken glass and gasoline. She wasn't sayin' nothin' it was just a dream. The wind was coming silent thru the windshield. All I could see was snow sky and pines. I closed my eyes and was runnin'. I was runnin' then I was flyin'.