Blame It On the Booze

West of the Rockies, North of the border. Lay a little town, Of law and order. With one Tin Star, And Deputies three. Nobody transgressed, Nobody but me. On that fateful day, Near the edge of town. With my Colt 45, Shot the Sheriff down. I had whiskeyed head, And bloodshot eyes. On a stolen horse, Was caught by surprise. The Deputies three, That I confounded. Out of the shadows, Had me surrounded. With no other choice, I dropped my gun. Then raised my hands, Under Noonday sun. A few moments later, I was put in a cell. Waiting for the Judge, To send me straight to Hell. I was soon found guilty, By a twelve-man jury. Right up the gallows, For the Hangman's fury. As the trapdoor opened, I couldn't help thinking. This wouldn't have happened, If I hadn't been drinking.