Way out past where the streetlights end, where the gravel turns to dust
Three men lookin' to cross that border, Diesel, Guns and Rust

Twenty years haulin' rebar on a flatbed from Maine to the border towns
Amphetamines, bad papers, and a repo tracked ol' Diesel down
It took a dozen flashing blue and reds, with their pistols drawn and cocked
Judge said three to five at Holman, boy you never should have stopped
Three men shackled, three men chained when they climbed aboard that bus
Headed out to general population, Diesel, Guns and Rust

Guns took the Golden Gloves home to Mississippi back in 1983,
Till a bar-room blind hook hit him like a freight train and dropped him to his knees;
Pascagoula boy drinkin' in Mobile shoulda never hit the white guy back;
Cause it's three to five in Holman on accounta Guns was black;
Three men talkin low in the yard not lookin' to cause no fuss,
Schemin' bout how to make a run for freedom, Diesel, Guns, and Rust

Diesel, Guns and Rust, by a simple twist of fate,
became a band of brothers when they slammed those prison gates;
In here it just don't matter, it's all in who you trust;
Just three brothers from different mothers, named Diesel, Guns and Rust

Rust pulled a 4.0 to 'bout midway through his senior year,
Til' a cocaine frame-up left him in handcuffs, the price of a girl and a beer;
The judge said what the hell were you thinkin', an ounce'll get you three to five,
And it's a long road down to Holman son from the land of The Crimson Tide
Three men ready to make that break with the only friends they could trust;
Crawlin' out 'neath the cover of darkness, Diesel, Guns, and Rust

Diesel, Guns and Rust, by a simple twist of fate,
Became a band of brothers when they slammed those prison gates;
In here it just don't matter, it's all in who you trust;
Just three brothers from different mothers, named Diesel, Guns and Rust


They crawled through mud and razor wire, stole the wardens' Chevy S-10;
Hit 29 South down to Pensacola where they dove into some van
85 miles from Holman, where the gravel turns to dust
Three friends lookin to cross that border, Diesel, Guns and Rust

Hey, Hey, Hey