Two night owls on horseback,
Entering the active saloon,
Ordering 3 fresh bottles of whiskey,
Drinking upon the rise of the bright moon.
Then a fierce man walks in,
Snorting of the horses grow loud,
Rising suspicion amongst the people,
As a pistol is fired at the crowd.
Sudden screams are heard,
As blood trickles down a man’s back,
With only his friend by his side,
And the sheriff now in need of someone to track.
Men and women begin to leave,
Pushing each other as they go,
The friend not knowing what to do,
Can only sit there and stay low.
The saloon soon clears,
And the sheriff would enter,
Following a long bloody trail,
To find a bleeding man in the very center.
He spots the hidden friend,
And raises his pistol wondering what’s on his mind,
Giving the man no other choice,
But to leave his poor buddy behind.