Damnation Highway

Waking up with strangers
Still wasted from the night before
The sheets stained a thousand hues
She sits up and sings the blues

Her Mustang manages to start
The lost highway stretching dead ahead
Mirages twisting in the sun
She just grins and hits the gas

She spots the hitcher at high noon
Flimsy and looking fairly baked
He murmurs his gratitude
Relieved from roasting on the spit

Where she goes, vultures follow
The asphalt melting in the heat
Her rider and his rictus face
Blurts comments on her fall from grace.