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East on Montana West Texas, East on Montana, no stop As we pass. Empty road seems forever. Pass "Lat Gas 10 Miles." Long since past last cop Gas station "Out of Biz" middle nowhere. Driving on, drive on, we reach the stop-light As dusk fades into darkness, a horse-trailer Hitched truck pulls before us. Loo-oong red light! Three ride, each to the other a stranger, In an empty land, under empty sky, Bored to the bone. Can't discuss the Arts Or gas the existential question "Why?" The horse lazily lifts his tail, and farts. Gazing six feet deep into a horses ass Is a sure way to break the ice.