Red shit box van parked aside

Rusted panels well worn

Thrust sticker stuck on the back

Who knows how stories are born?

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Inside this blackened truck from Hell

The cargo who can not tell

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Of the nights inside born of fear

Teenage hitchhikers all lost

Disappeared at night, so they say

Bodies sold for quite a cost

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Inside this blackened truck from Hell

The cargo who can not tell

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The cops found it burnt to a husk

Only the handcuffs truly show

Of the sex trade that is no more

And the fates that all know

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The cargo who can not tell

Inside this blackened truck from Hell

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I wanted to try my hand at a murder ballad. Something that speaks to those shit box trucks throughout Indiana and where I live. So many missing kids and rape vans everywhere.

ABCB Rhyme Meter. 8/6 Syllables alternating.