John Beyers blew three holes in my ride
He put two in the tires and one in the side
Side panel of my 1969
Camaro, and so it’s John I must find
So I hopped in Pop’s pick-up and cranked up the heat
Got a clean .22 and some shells in the seat
And I lit up the dark and I shifted her down
This southside Swift Current boy’s northside-bound
John Beyers just bought him a whole mess of pain
He’s a fool if he thinks he can do this again
‘Cause I’m crossin’ that track just as soon as this train
Pulls out of the rail yard, ol’ John’s gonna pay
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