Buffalo City

He took a plane to Rapid City Hoped the bike trip would be pretty Took a cab to where the trail began— He had the spark of a younger man. Next day he cycled on the Mickelson Trail Though he knew he was in a moving jail Higher ups told us he must be kept down If left alone, he'd gain a crown. It wasn't fair that he be free Breathing pure air, loving scenery He had dissed our people, defied our creed His attitude offended, more than his deed We tracked him down, he had to fail No free pass on the Mickelson Trail No free bird, flying into the sky We clip the wings of those who defy. He got to a valley so pretty and green I looked at his joy, I felt it obscene In Buffalo land, I brought him low No escaping our rules, no letting go. Know that webs exist of every kind You don't see the cords, but still they bind Trip a wire, that's it for you They don't care for your excuses, you can't argue The cops won’t shield you, won’t take your side, Your story ignored, or your story denied. You’ve crossed a border few understand— You're hunted now in Mafia Land. There was a fellow with a note pinned to his chest He lay in the street, the knife through his vest He had offended a religion, but others die too like a reporter who exposed crimes ugly but true. So keep your head down, and try to conform There are penalties if you stray from the norm You walk a shaky bridge over a steep drop Don't expect a parachute, not an angel, not a cop.