Wounded Creek

I went out one afternoon for a walk down Wounded Creek
I saw a young girl crying, tears run down her cheek
Her hands were white as ivory. A bruise was on her wrist
I asked her what the matter was and if anything was a miss
Her eyes looked down to somewhere else. Tears fell on her knees
I heard a car door slamming somewhere beyond the trees
She turned South, stole away. I followed her close behind
Up the path from Wounded Creek through the brambles, brush and vines
I heard the branches breaking. I hid behind the trees
Drew my pistol from my vest to see who it could be
The crashing sounds got closer, I caught my peace to speak
Up came a scraggly Spaniel dog who was lost on Wounded Creek
I turned to find no sign of her, the girl who’d let me in
So I walked up to the highway, just for my head to clear
The traffic light was changing, the wind grew cold with fear
I watched some silver Greyhound bus until it disappeared