Billy Dale is mistaken for a terrorist

Outside of Baltimore
I stopped at a liquor store,
to use the telephone,
to see if my wife was home.

I inhaled the rainy spring,
chewed on the raw wind,
dialed my number
and counted the rings.

A bomb went off in the parking lot,
it threw me down, singed my hair,
and shattered the glass of the liquor store.
I saw a gutted van, burning green and gold,
spitting sparks; I thought I saw someone inside.

I stood in shock ‘til the cops rolled up,
they took me in, I was the only witness.
I waited until the Feds arrived:
two men in shades, half my age.

They asked me about Desert Storm,
the Turks, the Kurds, chemical wars.
I told ‘em I only know the road–
I told ‘em I only sold
the Magipeeler, Forever Knives,
the Eternal Dicer, Miracle Slicer.
They said: "You’re not a suspect.
Maybe we’ll keep in touch."