Pale Rider Revisited

I can’t remember what inspired this verse, probably watching a Wild West movie on TV. But I do remember being impressed with how I managed to finish it after having no idea where it was going… :D

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The hired gun came spittin’ into town

Looking mean on a mare called Trigger Fire Brown

Broodin’ like Clint in a leather-face squint

Diggin’ in his spurs of steel-grey flint.

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The townsfolk saw him comin’, knew he took men’s lives

Seen his face the day before in The Stage Coach Times

The Sheriff spied the iron weighin’ down the dude’s belt

And hoped he’d earn his silver by the death that must be dealt.

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The Preacher wore a collar and he sweated round the clock

With the Tin Pans on the plains lookin’ for the yellow rock

But his eyes were ever wary and a rifle rested in his arms

Quoting verse of fire and brimstone and the Sunday morning psalms.

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Now the Sherriff wanted land and land with nuggets in its soil

Had a plan to cheaply reap, without the tearing toil

As well as riches and respect, it was fame all that he crave

But first he had to hide the Preacher six foot down an unmarked grave.

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Well the Tin Pans liked the Preacher ’cause they always got their share

And the Sherriff with his shifty eyes weren’t known for dealin’ fair

But this stranger with a history and a love of sordid crime

Turned the bowels of brave young workers, sent the fear back up their spine.

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The man got off his horse and wiped his crooked brow

Walkin’ strange from too much ridin’, testies tougher than a trowel

He scanned the dusty street, then swaggered to the dark saloon

Ordered pea and bison pie he ate with fork and spoon.

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To cut a short tale even shorter

The stranger raped the Sherriff’s daughter

The Preacher’s got a partner and the Sherriff’s lying cold

So the moral of this story is…..why take silver when there’s gold?