I knew a man some time ago with a Colt .45 hidden in his duster coat
Two pitbulls and a broken heart
Don Houston was the name that they gave him, but he would’ve settled for Rex, or Ahab or Butch if they’d left it up to him
He went out with his gun one day, well, he came across a stranger and he shot him in the face, and when the bears and the hawks came around for the food, he fired again. He shot them too.
And every time he pulled the trigger, it was the most beautiful thing that you ever saw.
His brush was the bullet. His paint was the blood.
His canvas was the earth. the rocks, the trees and the dirt
I knew a man some time ago. He rode away one day and never came back home, and where he is now, no one really knows
But some say they’ve seen him. They say that his ghost creeps through the shadows at night. But I don’t believe ‘em
Cause there’s a new bullet hole in the moon every night.
And just like every cowboy, he’s always out there singing his sad, old songs. Every cactus has a needle...Every cactus has a needle...Every cactus has a needle...
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