$87 And A Guilty Conscience That Gets Worse The Longer I Go

We were in Albuquerque at the fights
The referee wouldn’t stop the bout
The kid’s blood hit the fifth row
How he didn’t die that night I don’t know
That was the night I gave up the fight

Driving down 25 towards Las Cruces
We saw a flipped-over semi
We pushed in the windshield and pulled the guy out
Left him laying on the side of the road
My friend said we had to leave before the cops showed
What he’d done I didn’t know. Just hoped the guy was still breathing
As we disappeared down the road
I felt so bad

Twenty miles out of Yuma we picked up a girl
Saddest eyes and rotten teeth
Said she was only 16
We pulled into Mojave and they got a room
With one bed he got a room
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“What’s it matter to you?” He said
And led the girl in

I started walking down the road
Called the police from a payphone
87 dollars and bad nerves, 87 dollars and a bag of clothes
And a guilty conscience that gets worse the longer I go