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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A dead man is hanging in my cellar How he got there; is a mystery But I do remember this fella talking at a saloon Thick mustache, that curled at the wisp of his seedy breath Whiskey is his scent I know too well Carousing with the whores of the show Spreading his lies to spread their legs They ache for his touch and he lulls them goodnite Feeling no more warmth from his side of the bed With a quick turn he is gone and so is their sinners pence Long-legged and sharp as the knife he held at his breast pocket Always playing with a keep sake; the first valueable thing he ever took An from a one-eyed widow who cried over her mate The same mate he shot like a wildered beast Just to steal in sheer greed I recall the way of the game The odds were in my favors I smiled and showed my fate Just knowing that the pot is mine He cussed the saints and ran before whats fair was fare I followed looking for my prize Into the jagged night there he was Waiting with his blade so I rallied by the shadows Right then and there I shook his soul loose from fret and promised a friends drink One just for the inconvience of a silly game There in my house he sat for hours Brim hat to brag and seethe at what is precious in this world Fornicated little girls not old enought to know a womans ways Giggled at all the foolish church folk Laughed madly at the idea of Hell By fire and moonlight I now know what became of him As I Stood behind with a thick rope Dragged him to the top of a chair And released the world of this evil , let the macabre sway into the darkness Now in my cellar he will wait I suppose he still laughs with Satan Or maybe cons the angels of their halos However inhumane he lives; will be no more in this life In Hell may he rest
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