Living his life by morals taught
By old country songs,
He knows when to hold ’em,
And he sure as hell knows when to fold ’em.
He knows that life is not easy for a boy named Sue,
But he craves that freedom only sung.
Still, though, having never sat on a horse,
He imagines himself a cowboy.
In blue jeans and boots,
He sits with a gun on his hip.
Sipping his whiskey,
He smokes mentholated cigarettes.
He’ll never shoot a man in Reno,
Wanting to watch him die.
Instead he’ll watch True Grit,
Again, and again and again.
Deep down, he knows that it’s
A death bed that’ll get him,
Not a dueling six-shooter.
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Dcid Corvid 