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Poem

I rode into town with the sun sinking low,  
I thought "it's too quiet, somehow they know"
I wrote his name on the bullet, loaded it into the gun
He had taken my farm and shot my dear son.  
 
I walked in the saloon, I said "find me Maclay!"
The bartender whispered, "Boy, best walk away."  
But vengeance runs deeper than whiskey or wine,  
And I’d come too far to back down this time.  

(Chorus)
It’s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly out here,  
You live by the gun and still you're in fear.  
With a hand full of aces or a deck full of lead,  
You’re either in the ranks of the quick or the dead.  

A ghost from the past stood tall in the square,  
His hand on his Colt, with a cold, steady glare.  
"I sent you to hell, but you wouldn't stay,"  
I grinned as I answered, "It's your turn to pay."  
 
A flash, then a crack—smoke rose in the air,  
And one man lay dying, the rules say it's fair.  
No saints ride for sinners, angels won't wait,  
Just an expedited road to Heaven’s Gate.  

I should have been elated, but I just felt grim
Had I committed justice, or an unforgivable sin?
But the undertaker rested, the bells tolled their sound,  
Another lost soul was six feet in the ground.  

(Outro)  
They'll forget us both when the years roll by
But I drew faster so postponed the day when I die
They respect the strong horse, in your time too
If you want justice, strength makes it true.

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