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ACE CANNONS' CANON Through the morning, shimmering with colors that wavering, fade from a desert where heat is a hue, and history's due cactus and trees, knotted and sparse, a portrait some mad god must'f bade into being, into the "Otherwise Sane"; set apart from the world, lived in by you dust lays 'pon the ground, puffs upwards with resentful complaint as my mount plods onwards towards some tumbled town Town? a few homes, in a land where grown men could grow faint weary, thirsty, sweat-soaked; riding, walking, falling, down down... town Ace Cannon's my name, should anyone ask you may have heard, or you may not at times that's quite a task as i'm found wherever battles are fought and those who stay behind are often quite dead they thought, or they didn't, or dint really mind that those men who pushed, cursed, threatened with lead disrespected ladies, dint tip their hat, just hawked and spat raped, robbed or rustled, or horsethieved from towns and thought to back down the good folks with that more often than not, were buried with smiles, 'stead o' frowns i'm a gunslinger, in the olde sense of the word a hard man, a good man, a gunman, driftin' along light as a feather, fast as a bird i enjoy playing, Guns' melodious song "abandon all hope,all ye who hear, with nary a sound to accompany fear. the blackbirds are singing, as i draw near; the tumbleweeds roll, as leather i'll clear" a few townsfolk stroll from home to store a few, even this early, stagger from saloons to squint as at last, i ride past houses, where happy people live poor knowing each other, when last year they dint a traveler, through beauty and badland worthy of trust, friend of strangers in need dangerous at times, yet loyal to brand the code of the west, that noblest breed a stranger, hatbrim pulled low, all dust and sweat a horse noble as Knighthood, and muscled in trailwornest tan this was "the West", that hadn't quite yet met the Man Ace Cannon -esquire-
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