Akit's Hill (S. Loree)
She's an old machine, worn and bent
With the paint scratched off in an accidental dent
Driving down the wrong side of the road
With bad brakes and heavy load
It's dark with the lights off
Radio on and our fingers crossed
It's a coin toss
Half a mile from Johnson's Mill
At the top of Akit's Hill
The other with an accent and flashy dashboard
I've never seen one of those before
Coming up the far side of the hill
We're at the top hanging around
Looking out at the lake and the stars
There's ice and fire and the sound of braking tires
It's a crossfire
There was nothing I could do
And I knew that he knew it too
I could see it when he turned the wheel
There is nothing I can say
About Akit's Hill at the end of that day
There is nothing I could swear was true