Digital Tradition Mirror

The Bounty Hunter

The Bounty Hunter
(Mike Cross)

Good evenin' to you Mister,
The Bounty Hunter said.
You don't know me but I know
There's a price upon your head.
I know you're wanted dead or alive,
That's what the posters say,
But I never shoot a man at night
When he ain't had time to pray.

So I'll give you until sunrise,
Tomorrow, my friend,
Before I come to shoot you down
And bring your body in.
I warn you that I do my work
Quite well with gun or knife.
I've tracked down many a man,
I've taken many of life.

Father, do not mourn for me --
Mother do not weep.
Whatever a man soweth --
That also shall he reap.

I spent a long and sleepless night
With fear upon my breast,
Tryin' to get ready for
My morning duel with death.
I hid up in a hayloft,
Out on the edge of town
And at sunrise the Bounty Hunter
Came to shoot me down.

I fired down at the Bounty Hunter
Standin' in the street.
He raised his gun and fired a round
Of shots back up at me.
He hit my chest and shoulder
And my gun flew from my hand.
Now I'm trapped up in this hayloft,
A wounded, unarmed man.

The Bounty Hunter holds his fire
And hollers up at me,
``Come out and take it like a man,
I'll make it quick and clean.''
I know my time is running out
And there's no way I can stall,
So I reach and grab the pitchfork,
That's hanging on the wall.

My body arches as I stretch
And face the risin' sun
And I feel like a warrior's bow,
Freshly carved and strung.
I launch my body through the air,
And the pitchfork in my hand
Stabs the Bounty Hunter through the chest
And pins him to the sand.

Now my muscles start to rust,
My thoughts are grownin' cold
While Gabriel and Satan,
Shoot craps for my soul.

Copyright Mike Cross
tune is a slight variant on BUFFSKN2

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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