Air was cold, Lead was flying, her grip firm, fast running horse, saddle slipping, Pucker factor rising!
With gritted teeth and buttocks clenched HI - YO – SILVER away..........
A helpful hand, FILL YOUR HAND!!!
Wash those hands!
in soapy water, rubbing and scrubbing.
till Pearly White and his gang, cross the river Or each other, Time will tell, If there's time, theres time enough, we're burning daylight!!
off they rode, through death valley, night was fallen, Resting drinking coffee, eating beans, Windage and elevation, the coyotes howling, more beans,
winds picking up, Neckerchiefs over mouths, eyes watering, noses sniffling, slowly scooting apart, away from fire, the cook turns And drops the Coffee pot,
he picks up, His foot howling, His dogs barking, his wife screaming “Carry on.....Cowboy!!"
yes ma'am, He carried on!
mumbling gruffly, while eating hardtack, sadly . . . without coffee, He turned round, After bumping Cactus, To find his, pants had gone, AAAUUUUUUUUGH! My pants!!!!
It seems he, found a horse, wearing his pants, Where's My Jerky?
the horse replied, Jerky Not Jokey!!!
found under sadle, the key to, a strong box, found a map, to the gold, that was buried, far, far away, in the mountains, under a rock, beside dead tree.
looking for trouble, and finding it!
under his nose, Need a tissue!
a large one, BAD allergies, More Duke's Chili, will be hot!!!!!!!!!!!
Making eyes water, sun blazing down, The Next Day!!!
bright and early, shots were fired, the Horse bucked, and he fell, grasping the gold, he got away!
just in time, to see the, real killer arrive, at the bar, drinking himself silly.
Leaning over spittoon, smoking a cigar, Got a light?
he turned slowly, to stare him, with steely eyes, Full of rust, pulling his gun, and blasting away, the moosehead fell, and hit James, over the head,
and then said “Look here pilgrim”
picking himself up, wiping dust away, spectrums of emotion , coloring his thoughts, face turning red, the pain in, his foot, made him ticklish, before the girl,
slap him hard, On his big, fat rosy cheek, then he went, out the door, into the street, looking for trouble, he found it, in the shadows, of the saloon, Wild Cat Kelly!
yes she was, ugly as SIN!!!
needing a shave, smelling like a, nasty rank spittoon, which is like, nothing you ever, saw.
What did, it mean for, the man with, the Golden gun, To Be Put, you don't mean!
out to pasture, where the cold, wind singed his, blue, bare behind, the bushes, into a red, hot poker burned, a big hole, right through his, hopes and dreams.
the rifle shot, came from behind, and lifted his, hat off his, head.
leaving a, Ring of Fire, flames grew higher, and it burned, off he went, to the next, water hole, when he walked, into cool water, where it cooled,
the burning sensation, his head sizzled, steam rising off, his battered head, without a hat, he needed protection.
He searched in, his saddlebags and, in his coat, oh No!!
he pulled out, an empty bottle, of Kentucky bourbon.
he started walking, with a limp, towards the saloon, where she waited, and waited and, he hobbled in, BANG!!!
lights went out, He clutched his, already battered head, the floor was, wet and slippery, With his blood, but he managed, to crawl towards, The town Church, where the priest, tended his wounds, only to find, His only son, wanted to be, Up there with, The Good Lord.
but ran short, of good will, so he left, the next morning, looking for something
that would be, making him wealthy, but only found, tarantulas and scorpions, lizards and snakes, but not a, sign of vegetation, or Chickenfried Steak, yum, yum, yum, his taste buds, were on fire, a cold beer, a good cigar, a beautiful woman, a good watch, and plenty of, time to enjoy, the towns nightlife, at the saloon, first things first, something to eat!
can't drink on, your back,so, a nice thick, 64 oz. steak from, the nearest restaurant, with lots of, room for pie, and iced tea
Iced tea!! NO!
a large cool, glass of saspirilla, a mans drink, it'l put hair, where the wind, will not blow, but it stinks, so sweet of Mary!
That big, ole dog won't hunt.
So help, i'll shoot it, full of pepper, achoo, achoo, achooey
Poor ol' dog, with his teeth, falling out, because, he didn't brush, with the right, or the left, up and down, in and around, spit and rinse, rain or shine,
with or without.
then the bandit, gave himself whiplash
it's a big, big big big, Whip to lash
at the start, of the rodeo, his back was, feeling no pain, despite the way, He hunched over.
The look of, deep seated pain, flashed across his, his scarred face,
his bloodshot eyes, sweat stained shirt, disheveled unruly hair, wild ungroomed beard.
A ladies man, needing soap, drink, shave and haircut, and clean clothes,
off he went, traveling on board, the long and, creaky paddleboat, his destination set, and far away
she patiently waits, his mind wandered, So had he, straight into a, Den of Iniquity
Heaven or Hell?
Brimstone and Fire!
she called him, THUNDER AND LIGHTNING!!!
because he's loud, And He's bright, in the dark, of the night, without a light
Her Hands Reached, out for his, Hat and Coat, And She said, watch out for, the dealers derringer
bullets started flying, blood started flowing, a body fell, money was scattered, drinks were spilled, someone screamed, That's enough of
But nobody could, figure out why, his chaps where, not helping to, do what they, do do!! But
imbedded cactus thorns, in his rear, wernt helping much, so he left, and went right, then left again
looking for Doc, Who was out, in the cold, hurrying to a, a birth in, spite of inebriation, the world does, and looking comatose, had another drink, and past out
so the cowboy, stole a horse, which turned over, in his grave
He got out, JUST IN TIME, for a bite, OR A LITTLE, stolen backdoor smooch, or a little, cuddle on the, swing, at the, grove of trees, at the river, which runs beside, his big ranch
which was attacked, three days ago, by Chief Vittorio's, misguided horse thieves, that only wanted, what was theirs, to be takin, and sold for, anything in the, old tradin' post, the whiskey barrel
they might even, sell what was, the property of, Mad Moonshiner Magee, and his mean, ornery, low down crew, of deadbeat rustlein yellowbellied cowards
one eyed bandits, and general desperadoes, who were VERY, thirsty for blood
Magee could smell, the end of, his wild days, a drawin' near, he loaded his, weathered six gun, and headed for, what could be, his last round-up
His sharp eyes, scanned the horizon, looking for any, sign of trouble, from his past
when an explosion, rocked the tiny, hopes he had, launching the inevitable, snarls of disappointment, and waves of, hatred and vengeance, grabbing his Winchester, he took aim
Pausing momentarily, he, wiped his eyes, and shot the, S.O.B, right in the, well, you know, yeah, where the, sun don't shine, wind don't blow
talk out of, the right side, of the bed, after the rock, dampened his ardor, broke his spirit
Then he thought, to hell with, all this foolishness, be a man!!
face the music, Time to stand, sing a song, chew some tobaccy, growl his defiance, spit in his, glass of beer, would be good, right about now
killed 3 men, in the back, vultures circled lower, something scared them, they flew away
his trusty horse, came runnin' back, loaded down with, the very things, he needed to, make the getaway, clean and fast, clear and cool,
through indian territory, was the only, way to travel, without a guide, or a map, to get back, to his ranch, where he didn't, want to fight,
but he knew, they'd be waiting
in his saddlebags, an old letter, which contained information, of important information, that would Free, the stranger in, jail for murder
his only hope, at the barbershop, was stinking drunk, and only wanted, live on forever, but unfortunately that, was not in, the bedroom.
Where the telegraph was, soaking in water, he wondered why, the roof leaked
charging the door, to his Visa, ..over the limit, he had to, pay in cash, which he stole, but would return, if he got, the chance to, dance with Ginger
