Mckerrow You Stink
On the short little drive up 17
was the smell of a land we'd quarantined
Where the place we went through wasn't quite as bad
as the hell of a town Espanola had
Where we rolled through the blessings
with our windows up
And the town called Mckerrow
made our faces shlupt
That we moaned for our senses
for the world to change
When the smell hit our window
in a smell quite strange
And we rolled through the town
going just as fast
As the smell that was slowing
all the hope gone passed
Mckerrow
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2019
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