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Click hereThis is the consequence of being too slow on the draw
The tender skin of youth and hot lead
Should never cross
You deserve to know,
Before you cease,
I take no pleasure
Cutting down a flower
Yet to blossom
A gun doesn't make a man
But a gun in the hand of a boy
Isn't mistaken for a toy
By the likes of men as me
The elderly,
Making their way around steps
Find benefit in shaking hesitation.
Here, in a dusty saloon,
A young farm boy
Finds only ground to fall
I'll whisper in your ear last words,
Advice that folks who loved you,
Your mama,
Should have told...
Don't take your guns to town, son,
Leave your guns at home