The only thing your daddy ever
Gave you was his ol' truck;
Same damn truck you once left
This dusty one horse town in,
Rarin' to go, ready to show 'em
What your no account daddy's son
Could do in the big wide world.
Too bad once you left Oklahoma
Things weren't much different.
You had to show them
UC Hastings motherfuckers what
A lil 'ol country boy from
Backwoods Oklahoma could do-
'Cause you weren't no candyass
Rich kid whose daddy could
BUY him a degree and a soft life.
Buy? You? A degree?
Hell no! Your ol' man was
Flat dirt shit broke,
Nothin' but dust in his pockets!

And the newspaper clipping, his sneering face on it,
Rustles back and forth on the worn seat beside you
With every jolt of your pickup truck
Stained green by the AM dashboard radio light
While Waylon, Willy, and Johnny Cash
Snarl out one long angry workin'-man's refrain.

So you hunkered down and
Did for yourself:
Waitin' tables,
Haulin' garbage,
Mowin' some rich fuck's lawn-
Studyin' for the Bar in between.
While Frat Boy and his buddies
Spent summers backpacking Europe
You worked the canneries;
Tossin' fish off boats for pennies;
The whole time sleepin' in the cab
Of your daddy's truck.
The Oklahoma dust in the worn
Upholstery makin' you sneeze
Every time you rolled over.
Anyway you did it, you did it,
You made it through Harvard,
Passed the Bar on your own guts
Yeah, buddy, doin' without,
And gettin' the prize.
Yeah, buddy, gettin' the prize!

And the newspaper clipping, his sneering face on it,
Rustles back and forth on the worn seat beside you
With every jolt of your pickup truck
Stained green by the AM dashboard radio light
While Waylon, Willy, and Johnny Cash
Snarl out one long angry workin'-man's refrain
Beneath the colorless prairie moon.

The right people saw you,
Saw your hard work.
They said, "We got a place for
A smart young man like you-
You'll go straight to the top!"
So you said, "Be glad to, sirs!"
Then you drove your daddy's
Old truck down to L.A.,
Memories of the dusty
Oklahoma wind blowin' behind,
Pushin' you straight to
To the Promised Land at last!
But it wasn't the goddamned
Dust that drove you there,
You drove you there-
No longer for you, an Oakie,
Takin' on jobs only a Mexican'd do.
No sir, you earned this reward
At the end of the rainbow
With your own sweat and sacrifice.
Shedding dust as you went.

And the newspaper clipping, his sneering face on it,
Rustles back and forth on the worn seat beside you
With every jolt of your pickup truck
Stained green by the AM dashboard radio light
While Waylon, Willy, and Johnny Cash
Snarl out one long angry workin'-man's refrain
Beneath the colorless prairie moon.

So what'd you get in the end
For all your sweat?
Your sacrifice?
Not a goddamned thing!
'Cause you let some
Long dead rich man's son
With big ideas
Steal your job,
Your hand,
Your woman,
Hell, your pride-
Made you look like a goatroper!
Yeah, goddam peckerwood
Slapped you down,
Sent you packin', like a good boy, back
To the unforgivin' town you'd left behind,
Then what'd peckerwood do,
After all them self-righteous speeches
'Bout doin' what's right?
He done stole everything
You'd worked for, dammit!

And the newspaper clipping, his sneering face on it,
Rustles back and forth on the worn seat beside you
With every jolt of your pickup truck
Stained green by the AM dashboard radio light
While Waylon, Willy, and Johnny Cash
Snarl out one long angry workin'-man's refrain
Beneath the colorless prairie moon.

With a grind of old gears,
You stand on it, kickin' up dust,
Headin' for the Interstate
To Texas,
Then Mexico.
There's people down there
That know shit, shit that'll
Get you yours back;
You ain't no candyass, drivin' and
Cryin' 'cause some motherfucker
Done run you out of L.A.
With nothin' to your name
But this here ol' pickup truck
With the dust blowin' out the engine
Every time you start it-
No, you get things done.
Always have. Always will.
And peckerwood?
When you get done with him,
Peckerwood'll be nothin' but dust
Blowin' in the Oklahoma wind.

And the newspaper clipping, his sneering face on it,
Blows unheeded out the passenger window
Of your dusty beat up pickup truck, no longer
Stained green by the AM dashboard radio light
While Waylon, Willy, and Johnny Cash
Snarl out one long angry workin'-man's refrain.
Beneath the colorless prairie moon.


Lindsey has always unsettled me, and when he left town the first time in a truck wearing a coat that was all too familiar, I finally understood why. What hints you get of his childhood, made it even more familiar. I've known Lindseys just as I have known Reillys. A Lindsey will not sit still for long if he feel's somebody's pissing on his leg and telling him it's raining. Viewed in this light, Lindsey's return in Season 5 of Angel as a vengeful trickster, makes perfect sense.

And anyway, how did Lindsey, out in the boonies, find out Angel had taken over the L.A. branch of Wolfram and Hart? Perhaps an unknown "benefactor" sent him a clipping?

As to dialect and attitude, I thank a freelance Oklahoma trucker who used to deliver stuff to a store I once worked at. He spoke with a long, slow drawl and moved no faster than he had to until there was a need to. Once there was a need, get out of the way because his sense of determination made him a juggernaut.