Andy Faair

It was one straight highway through the desert,
The gold mines rose on either side of us,
Pit stop after pit stop, Battle Mountain and emigrant pass.
Kandy got on at Gloconda, made her way to the back of the bus,
She was part Red Indian, green eyed and full of possibilities,
She hit on my tequila and spewed out her ugly story,

From Greyhound Company Rules

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