Discretion

Having no idea that his youngest son was dead

The farmer and his sweet young wife slept soundly in his bed

In the shadow of the mountain as the cattle hung their heads

Grazing only feet from where the broken body lay

And would lay undiscovered for another several days

When the farmer would find vultures at their banquet in the hay

The killer traveled eastbound in a golden brown sedan

Weighing his most recent deviation from the plan

Counting down the hours til the sun came up again

Hired to hit the farmer by the farmer's asshole son

He had not yet decided between poison or a gun

When suddenly he realized he would not use either one