If I move, kill me
A new town dusty dawn no squawks or spiked heels – just whiskey, whips and harlot hips: straw for old toothless here.
Ham, pie, hot beans - gonna have me some of those chocolate creams. Lord, help me find tobacco.
More mud than a man can stand out here. Rain and wind that’ll whip you up –crack open a hell for you; won’t ever let you go.
I dig in deep – ain’t gonna lie; men fell beneath my feet. Wet brown and bloody, that’s the only way – it’s hard not to out welcome your stay. They left their marks though – toothless ain’t been my only steed, time and time again that hammer blows away the greed.
Up there where the stars form a line I piece together old friends of mine – medicine men and travelling priests, somewhere else now; more than likely deceased.
This rotten hole will do me fine as long as I don’t give it too much time. Get what’s owed to me and breeze outta here - let these good folk loosen up their fear. It’s not a heart of stone that rests with me just a god-awful need to be absolutely free.