Shake the pistol at my mane
Lord help those who shame
For a gospel bell has struck gold
And the crowd is letting out.
Gone are the busy days
Lost into the wind and rain
Leaves have let down their shine
And blankets freezing again.
Sitting alone by the fire
Running down my back
Washed away my innocence
And now’s my closing song.
I laid there bleeding cold
Everything I had not seen
Now coming to my mind
Eyes fading to clean
Void and his sister: darkness
Sources of all I forgot
Laid here by a pistol
Made elaborately to be sold
In a house where everything
Is made to be seen
And there I lay motionless
No less then ever
Missing from the scene.
A cool glove wrestles my eyes shut
Demanding I throw my caution to the wind
Relapse into my nightly routine of unconscious drabble
But ho! I keep a steady battle against the dusty cowboys
Distinction holds the gun against my belt
And loose gravel ties my soul along my throat
Ready to burst at the onset of a tremor
Ready to gush at the first sight of a lover
And then, like the silently sweeping motions of the clouds
A calm rustles amongst the trees of my scalp
Allowing me to enjoy, for just a brief moment
The endless summers of Eldorado
But just as clouds soon change shape and disperse
The thought swiftly leaves the action
Leaving my yearning soul back in the game
Pistol in hand, this is going to be a dirty one