Then the Puritans Sent Us To Helltown



Sometimes I wish
we could go
back to the summer
we spent
at Helltown

A nice place
to visit
they said
But it was
a better place
to leave

We smoked
cigarettes aboard
the abandoned bus
Our legs up
on the seats
The emergency
exit door
slightly ajar
Cool fresh air
creeping in

The end
of the world
just beyond
the barricade
at the end of the dead
county highway

Crosses etched
into tree bark
The burnout kids
would head
out back
and listen
to their
Scandinavian metal

We put down
shots and knew it
would end badly
Faces covered
in ten days
of mystery

We called ourselves
Whiskey Rebellion
and searched
high and low
for reasons
to kick and scream