Deep in the heart of America, Dodge City, Kansas
The land of tornadoes, cows, and outlaws
One man stands above the rest a killer cold to the bone
A look in his eyes may as well be a death sentence
If you're that close, you're too close
The year now is 1848, it's February
News just hit dodge about gold being struck
In a little known place called California Territory
With the price on his head higher than a storm cloud
This didn't seem such a bad idea
He would have to deal with the law here first so news doesn't spread
The current sheriff is a constant writhing pain in the ass
And needs to be dealt with in the worst manners possible
And that's where we find our main character
Outside the sheriff's office, with a revolver in each hand
Known for being the best shot in town
He didn't bother loading more than one bullet in each
He lights his cigarette, draws his guns
And kicks down the door
The deputy draws first, he didn't last long
The walls needed fresh paint anyhow
With the sheriff however, this was gonna be fun
The sheriff was three sheets to the wind
And hadn't a clue where he was
So our man brought him out back to the train tracks
And that's where our story begins
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Garbage - MOON IS RISING Lyrics
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Deep in the heart of America, Dodge City, Kansas
The land of tornadoes, cows, and outlaws
One man stands above the rest a killer cold to the bone
A look in his eyes may as well be a death sentence
If you're that close, you're too close
The year now is 1848, it's February
News just hit dodge about gold being struck
In a little known place called California Territory
With the price on his head higher than a storm cloud
This didn't seem such a bad idea
He would have to deal with the law here first so news doesn't spread
The current sheriff is a constant writhing pain in the ass
And needs to be dealt with in the worst manners possible
And that's where we find our main character
Outside the sheriff's office, with a revolver in each hand
Known for being the best shot in town
He didn't bother loading more than one bullet in each
He lights his cigarette, draws his guns
And kicks down the door
The deputy draws first, he didn't last long
The walls needed fresh paint anyhow
With the sheriff however, this was gonna be fun
The sheriff was three sheets to the wind
And hadn't a clue where he was
So our man brought him out back to the train tracks
And that's where our story begins
The land of tornadoes, cows, and outlaws
One man stands above the rest a killer cold to the bone
A look in his eyes may as well be a death sentence
If you're that close, you're too close
The year now is 1848, it's February
News just hit dodge about gold being struck
In a little known place called California Territory
With the price on his head higher than a storm cloud
This didn't seem such a bad idea
He would have to deal with the law here first so news doesn't spread
The current sheriff is a constant writhing pain in the ass
And needs to be dealt with in the worst manners possible
And that's where we find our main character
Outside the sheriff's office, with a revolver in each hand
Known for being the best shot in town
He didn't bother loading more than one bullet in each
He lights his cigarette, draws his guns
And kicks down the door
The deputy draws first, he didn't last long
The walls needed fresh paint anyhow
With the sheriff however, this was gonna be fun
The sheriff was three sheets to the wind
And hadn't a clue where he was
So our man brought him out back to the train tracks
And that's where our story begins
Writer: Greyston Burley
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid