Meth Journey

Meth labs are stashed
Deep within the Sonora Desert.
Its background is cactus,
Mighty mountains and forgotten lore.

Fiends like ancient mummies,
Some scurry like frantic zombies
To get one bag of drugs.

Thats cooked, packed then sold
To the old and many minors
Where fools once panned for gold.

Through the dark and slightly cool
With bags strapped to their backs.
They cross the tracks by two's.

Running, twisting, turning, yearning,
Hurrying, rushing, hustling.
What if that trailer moved?

Scabby boney arms will raise,
And thumb a simple ride.
To a drug crazed land called Aguila.