I've pa**ed through Montana many times
And I've seen the reservations along the way
Outside of Helena I picked up a rider
He was drunk
He had long black hair
Wore an old army coat
I asked him where he's going
He said nowhere
Got a 12 pack in Grey Falls
And we nursed them along the way
He sunk down in the seat
The window gla** pressed against his face
As we neared the reservation
He told me he had a sister
He couldn't remember in which state
He said his Dad was white
Left them as orphans at an early age
He said he once stood outside his father's house
Just yelling at the door
When he was finally let in he was just an old man withering away
We stopped in Harlem
And we stood outside a bar
“How do you go back?” he said
“If there's no place from which you came?
And every time I try to leave I always end up back at this place
I always end up back at this place