Way down there it's raining dust
And snakes police the roads
And a truck weighed down with misery stops and unloads
And 18 broken passengers, their blood as thick as mud
Beg for water, for anything the driver waves good luck
And now it fries the refugees and turns their brains to chalk
Eighteen men and women and one brand new pair of shoes
And the driver's back at the border, what's he got to lose
The night wind screams across the freezing ground
There's no one left to tremble or to fear for him now
Their bones are scattered drifting like the snow
That falls each night and settles all around his soul
All around his soul