The Ballad of a Farmer

The Name on my tombstone is already chiseled in
They made me a good offer for my horse
I`LL STEAL YOUR BOOTS, when I`m on the ground
However I won`t walk away

I am no gunman
Not even a cowboy
Just a farmer who cultivates the land
Like dad before me I crop the corn on Monday
And I´m really happy with – what life offers me

He stood at the bar and molested Jane the Ire
What was thinking when I raised a word
Cold and dirty: TOMORROW YOU ARE DEAD
High Noon we`ll shoot to kill

High Noon
Came much too soon
Face to Face
My Killer and myself
Then a shot
A lead-bullet teardrop
And the wind blows blood along the street

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