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It stands on the edge of civilization,
fed by a ghost town road
A starving artery leading into the desert
Only desperadoes and Death Valley aficionados
pass through this lonely stretch of land
But there's a diner sitting at this mouth of hell,
a very strange diner
Though on the outside looking in, at first glance,
one could never tell
There's a faded sign flapping in the wind,
it says: Welcome to the Wayfarers Inn diner
And on the window next to the entrance door,
the bold headline of a yellowing article says:
"Home of the famous Faust family Secret Stew,
established in circa 1602" 
Legend has it that a caravan of settlers
went into the desert,
and none made it out alive except the Faust family
A most colorful history,
no doubt designed to sell a few more meals and local trinkets
Walking through the door,
you're just another bad man
running from the law into the belly of the badlands
Sitting at the tables
are mostly old folks ... ancient looking people
You pay them never no mind,
as you shake the dust out of your clothes
Then a buxom, blonde waitress
comes and ask you what will you have
But before you can say what you want,
she recommends the Secret Stew
After sixteen hours of nonstop driving,
you got a hunger so huge, just about anything will do
She delivers to you a big bowl piping hot
As you cautiously spoon the contents of the stew,
you look around and notice something strange ...
Everybody in the place got one eye looking at you,
while their other eye is squinting
from the glare coming through the window
So you go back to looking at the mystery stew,
and a brown lump of something comes floating into view
You wonder what kind of meat this is,
as you take a bite
But you have no reference as to what it tastes like
Then one troubling detail dawns on you;
when you pulled into this rural place,
you heard no animal sounds
No squeal of the pig,
no goats braying
No mooing of the cow,
no chickens clucking
You didn't even see a cat or snake,
didn't hear a dog barking
Then cannibal doubts begin to consume your mind,
and the toothy grins of the patrons
suggest it's more than finger licking time
You didn't even realize
that you ate more than half the bowl
And the more you eat, the more your hunger grows
So you ask the smiling chef with desperate regret,
what was in the Secret Stew
Suddenly, everybody in the place chimes together:
the kindness of wayfaring strangers like you
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