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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required This is the story of mad Molly Shaw She might be mad now but she wasn’t before she came home to find her man dead on the floor She lay down her bible and let out a roar She walked into town with her hair in a mess Fresh mud on her face and her pretty white dress She knew that such murderers never confessed Rely on the law... that would be best And in the law house where the sheriff was found She said I just put a good man in the ground So go take a noose and grab Samurai Stan For he is the one who done murdered my man He stopped me last week and he wanted some fun I told him I’m married but he drew his gun He said that his name was Samurai Stan And his samurai sword would take care of my man The sheriff said Stan and I share the same mother Ain’t wise to come in here bad mouthing my brother You show us how tightly that pretty mouth shuts Or find out how easy a preacher girl cuts Tin star on the desk where the sheriff was sat She grabbed it and bellowed ain’t standing for that No varmint should wear a tin star, it’s obscene She flipped it and watched it splash in the latrine The sheriff jumped up as she made for the door I ain’t taking that from no Holy Joe Hoor Mad Molly turned and she stood in the doorway Our business is done here... at least for today * Her kin had been preachers since preachin’s been done So mad Molly Shaw hadn’t handled a gun She made an acquaintance with two Smith n Wessons found a gunslinger and paid him for lessons Molly learned quickly and so by and by The gunslinger told her you got a good eye Your hand is far faster than I’ve seen before And these things will help if you break with the law She thanked him for all of the progress she‘d made And said I must now learn the Japanese blade I need to know what makes a katana sing And the gunslinger said, life’s a funny old thing Some fella came by just a few years ago But learning the craft he did not want to know Just quick ways to put a man into a hole And not how the blade becomes one with your soul This Samurai Stan, I can swear to your Lord He’s no Samurai, just a creep with a sword No matter how often with sword he attacks He’ll have no more grace than a man with an axe I decreed that day that I’d never-more train Any man deaf as I try to explain The katana can slash a man’s chest open wide But it’s mastery dwells in its spiritual side So, day upon day and many a night Molly and tutor would practice the fight In which she was told to go for the kill While he stopped each thrust with an effortless skill And when she was ready he told her this The katana can kill with a featherlight kiss And it can spill guts with a heftier slash But you are its mind be you subtle or brash * So now twenty weeks since her husband was slain Molly Shaw walked into town once again Criss-crossed on her back two katanas dwelt And two Smith and Wessons in her holster belt With dust kicking up at her every step She never looked right and she never looked left Her shirt front was tied clear of guns at her hips And the sheriff’s cheroot simply fell from his lips At the saloon the swing doors sprang wide And two drunken cow hands were bundled outside The landlord said, ‘Get lost’, then turned on his toes He went back inside...but the doors didn’t close Inside on the bar leaned Samurai Stan Who only turned ’round when everyone ran The sun rendered Molly in sharp silhouette And Stan said what your man got, you’re gonna get But lady I’m seeing you sporting a bump Don’t think that that gift from your God fearing chump Will stay me from cutting you down don’t you fret Ain’t killed me no mother in child... as of yet! Molly scowled, you appear to have only one sword I’ll match you for that if I don’t get too bored She drew a katana and took up the stance Of a samurai swordsman ready to ‘dance’ Samurai Stan with his ungainly grace Came swinging his sword all over the place Maybe the Gods could have seen Molly move But there in Stan’s forehead a deep bloody groove The sheriff barged in with his Winchester ready Its aim was at Molly its aim was rock steady A pre-strike katana held Stan on one knee So her right hand was busy... her left hand was free With not a word spoken and just the one shot A revolver smokin, a little red dot Just under the hat of the sheriff who stopped Slumped to the floor and died where he dropped Samurai Stan was still down on his knee But fear for his life gave him new clarity He swung his katana in unrestrained haste And slashed a deep gash across Mad Molly’s waist Molly stepped back from the force of the strike She’d thought she could match him at least swipe for swipe Stan said you just had to share me your charms But two lightning swipes and he lost both his arms He staggered then tripped on his dismembered limbs And he slumped in a heap to consider his sins The scowl on his face displayed no repentance Twas always his fate to be vanquished by vengeance An ironic grin split Stan’s ashen face Seems that my death in this time and this place at the hand of a girl is my wages of sin His eyes slowly closed as blood ran down his chin She turned to her tutor, Hey gunslinger man I ask of you why did you lend me no hand The gunslinger told her I did have your back To step in if your resolution should crack He stepped out from the shadows, neither gun nor sword in hand Revenge? A steer that’s only yours if it wears your brand One man can serve up justice at another man’s behest Revenge you must take for yourself, and cold by far is best And then from the floor of that bloodied saloon A mumble from Stan who must surely die soon Molly said Lord I guess you know best But heaven’s no place for this unwelcome guest Stan murmured I heard you laid your bible down She towered above him her face wore a frown She loosened the knot at the hem of her shirt And lifted the hem, here’s why I’m not hurt Stan struggled to raise his head so he could look Strapped to her belly, a half severed book My Lord would not watch while I died at your hands I lay down my bible but took up my man’s Blood flowed from his stumps but the pressure was low And with his last breaths he wanted to know Just tell me please where you learned Samurai My teacher I killed and I watched him die His grave is right there by the old sycamore And then his head slumped and he muttered no more She said to the gunslinger what going on? But got no reply, the gunslinger was gone
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