Draw

approach me, come on approach me
on the dead leaves of fall, stand up and be counted
draw that pistol, sketch that leather saddle and you will die
if that's what you wish
i shall take and introduce you to the after life
but you go on and blame me, for the stupidity
the insanity, its all caused by a mid morning sunset
you called out my name, in the saloon
you decided that I was too old to do this again
well, I'm a going prove you wrong
just one last time young un
my middle finger is a twitching on the pearl handle
stare into my eyes, and see i mean what i say
turn around, walk away
i give you one more chance,
don't make me kill another son again
don't you do it, ain't no ladies going to respect you more
a corpse don't marry, nor have young uns
i will put that bullet in the middle of you
straight through you son, i am that hired gun
i may be sixty, but i ain't lost my touch
back away, i pray, back away.


Draw.
I walk, good night son,
sleep well.
just right there in the dirt
where you fell.
,