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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required In a dusty fleabit mining town The kind you’d see on screen The stranger rode down Main Street Looking evil, looking mean He packed a pair of six guns And a sawn off in his vest Those folks was mighty nervous But that’s something you’d a guessed The drug store shut the shutters And the hotel did the same The sky grew dark and cloudy, and It looked like it might rain The stranger in his poncho He stayed sitting on his horse He’d rode near fifty miles He was saddle sore, of course It took some time, but he got down Then standing in the street He opened up a well worn pouch And rolled a cigareet He struck a match across his chin And in it’s dying flame Some folks recognised him Though, they didn’t know his name Moving slowly down the boardwalk Headin’ straight towards the bar The light’ning flashed and all could see The stranger wore a star He pushed in through the bar room door And silence filled the air Those men was mean and moody He could feel their hateful stare Sidling slowly to a barstool, well The mood, it sorta eased For at last they had a starman And they seemed like they was pleased The starman drank his coffee Ate some victuals and some bread It had been a long hard day,and He was ready for his bed But then he saw the gunman From the corner of his eye He knew the man was faster And he knew that he could die Dressed in black all over Staring deep into the room The gunman, like a shadow Almost hidden in the gloom Though running short of time The lawman hatched a cunning plan He only had one chance to get The better of this man Moving quickly from his barstool Heading straight toward the door The sheriff hit the gunman And, the gunman hit the floor
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