The origin of this song is from the early 80's. Originally it was a lyric about a town in the old west. The only surviving words are the three first lines in the chorus. The rest has been completely re-written. This version is about the veteran gunslinger who's seen it all, being challenged once again. I always liked the opening line in the chorus, but felt it was too short so I forced myself to come up with something to round it out. The song itself is pretty average. It was more for me to finally get this one done. Kinda sounds like something Molly Hatchet would do perhaps, lyrically.

I rode in to a dusty old town
just as the sun was going down
Stepped into the Star saloon'
At the break of the laughing moon
Asked the barkeep to fill my glass
three inches tall so my thirst would pass
Then a man 'bout five foot ten
Walked up to me, here comes trouble again

Chorus
( I said )
You better stop messin'
or I'll teach you a lesson
Blow you away with my Smith and Wesson
You better start runnin'
or I'll come a'gunnin'
and I will blow you away

I could tell he was fixin' for a fight
Young and brash gonna turn out my lights
Going for the glory, stakin' a claim
Takin' me down for fortune and fame
He locked on to my gaze daring me to draw
His fingers were keen impatience would gnaw
I was sippin' my whiskey it's fire burned hot
As I waited for junior to go for the shot

Chorus

The silence is stretchin' out the door
The patrons are all flat on the floor
Come on son time to go for your gun
You better be quick or you better run
There's sweat in his eyes, maybe a tear
Hands are shakin' showing his fear
Ain't got the guts, ain't got the stones
( but listen ) up in Boot Hill you won't be alone

REGRETS

This is a poem I wrote years ago. I was probably going through a divorce at the time so that is probably reflected in the downbeat tone of the thing.

I was born
then I died
In between
I laughed and cried
So many things
I should have said
Wilted thoughts
of wasted dread

I had dreams
that faded fast
Into the future
of my past
Things to do
was never done
Moments born
now all gone

And the backbone
of my spine
Turned a deaf ear
to the blind
I wish that I
had taken chances
Just to fuck
with circumstances

But here I am
a wilted rose
Who's final act
is to decompose
We never learn
that life is brief
Fraught with joy
fraught with grief

It will come
it will go
At what point
we never know
So, when you're dead
it's quite too late
to wish that you
had changed your fate

KISS ME OR KILL ME

I had the chorus for this lyric laying around for years before I finally figured out what it was about. Made a few attempts to do something with it, but it just wouldn't happen. The chorus always struck me as something AC DC would have written. This is about what happens when a hired killer tries to eliminate the competition and sparks fly. Now all I gotta do is write some music to it. Sure, easy peasy.

She was a payed assassin
come down from Dc
Someone got a contract,
contract out on me
Standing in my bedroom
Her aim was true and clear
Poised to pull the trigger
A moment she'd revere

Chorus
Kiss me or kill me
Come dance with me to my grave
You know I mean business,
so let's hook up for Christmas
I promise you I won't behave


Cornered in a foxhole
my fate a foregone deal
The reaper's here to harvest
The paper's signed and sealed
Such a stunning vision
the face of my demise
The last thing I will ever see
are those haunting eyes

Yet there's hesitation
Doubt clutching her mind
The seed of indecision
A feeling not unkind
We share the same profession
soulmates packing heat
A combustible compulsion
two hearts, but one beat

THE TROUBLE WITH RAINBOWS

There's a knot in my rainbow
The colors are askew
There's too much yellow
and not enough blue
The fairies are a'fightin'
over the pot of gold
Here comes the rastafarians
Itchin' to get involved
Dreadlocked and loaded
surfin' waves of speed
This won't be pretty
Someone's gonna bleed
Don't mess with the fairies
they ain't got no class
If you turn your back
they'll shoot you in the ass
The rastafariens just
didn't stand a chance
When you arm a fairy
bullets will dance
So now the rainbows gone
and so is the gold,
but you can still smoke the pot
if you know how to roll

INVASION OF THE SOUL SNATCHERS

Nobody suspected, no body knew
They fell from the skies still hazy blue
Hidden in raindrops translucent foes
Paratroopers from a dimension up above
One by one they exploded against the ground
In every village, city and town
Under siege the world was their prey
Liquid mercenaries will kill without delay

Gathering shape crawling from the soil
Adapting to the human form, it's human coil
In veins of water flows crystal blood
Unleashing waves of surging floods
Choking breaths restricting air
Catching mankind, asleep, unaware
For eighteen nights and eighteen days
Invaders crushed, consumed, erased

There was no fight, no few good men
No battle cry to rise up and defend
A genocide most swift, precise
Until, but only silence lies
Across the earth, a stillness reigns
Life exstinguished, battered, drained
Yet souls survive abandoning their shells
Aimless spirits seeking directions out of hell

Herded towards a gateway past the stars
A rift in reality looming from afar
Into the realm where tyrants are kings
Puppeteers pulling the strings
Masters of malevolence collecting the death of dreams
Slave traders slipping through fracturing seams
Harvesting the essence, every creature's residue
Marauders of the galaxy, conquering frontiers anew

Feeding themselves on the sustenance of minds
Sipping knowledge like connoisseurs of fine wine
Addicted to the thoughts stolen by force
The craving itches for the carnival of wars
The cobblestones bleed while winter fail
to hide the aftermath beneath the widows veil
The tug of the conquest will never subside
Chasing the need where senses collide

NO ONE MOURNS THE NAMELESS

This is a poem about the forgotten who ends up in the morgue without anyone to identify them.
I make a reference to Potters field, which is where they bury those they cannot attach a name to.

Silence suffers in the bowels of the morgue
It's transients are breathless from decay
A never ending misery permeates their soul
As words were left behind like castaways
Cut down early by the needle or the gun
Misfits of memories in arteries deep
If you shoot it out you will leave a mark
Take a trip or go to sleep

Staring at eternity through blind mens eyes
Where the dark is darker than the futile hope for light
Some are charred, tar fused to their bones
Burnt by desperation succumbing to their hollow plight
If no one cares why even give a damn
Sleeping with anxiety numb by dismay
Suicide Cinderellas seeking their fuel
The courage to finally slip away

Here they lay faces without names
No one stopping by to put in a claim
They bury them deep in Potters field
Wooden boxes stacked high barely sealed
To whom do their memories belong
Those midnight vagrants who died so young
Crumbled dreams slipping through their fingers
To vanish with the wind, no time for them to linger