The Gunsling

When sun sets dusk and streets are cleared,
When this town's renegade is near.
Standing tall, awaiting host
what's 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 through the 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 my life
I cannot take this lying down.
NO!

Standin' alone through the 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.

Before the gates of hell
Before the gates of hell

I hear those voices calling,
take my life
I cannot take this lying down.
NO!

Standin' alone through the 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.