The Gunsling

When sun sets dusk and streets are cleared, this town's renegade is near. Standing tall, awaiting host wha'ts it like to see a ghost? Both outlaws equal, yes indeed, a one shot rhythm to the gunsling so long my sweet. Bye Bye. Standin' alone in soot and stone, he draws from this holster, a man. Crawlin' alone through the soot and stone, he makes his way home half to death. He clenched his fist and said a prayer, for every breath of dusty air. He fires loud, the end is close, what's it like to be a ghost? Both outlaws equal, yes indeed, a one shot rhythm to the gunsling, so long my sweet. I hear those voices calling, "take your life" I cannot take this lying down. NO! Standin' alone in soot and stone, he draws from this holster, a man. Crawlin' alone through the soot and stone, he makes his way home half to death. In time. In vain. I wash my hands, of yesterday. If I should fall, if I should pass, it's worth one last stand before the gates of hell. I hear those voices calling, "take your life" I cannot take this lying down. NO! Standin' alone in soot and stone, he draws from this holster, a man. Crawlin' alone through the soot and stone, he makes his way home half to death. In time. In vain. I wash my hands, of yesterday. If I should fall, if I should pass, it's worth one last stand before the gates of hell.