Saladin and I rode north from the badlands
where luck would have it, we encountered the Mexican army.
Saladin was impounded for 24 hours and so were my shooting irons.
"A precaution," said they. Yeah --- in lawless lands,
the whim of the moment is justice be hanged.
I frequented the town's one and only cantina,
had a few margaritas and shrugged off the freaks,
one in particular who wanted my lap to chew the fat.
No prancing boys for me in g-strings and in heavy eye liner at that.
My vision was steadfast, get back my guns and Saladin.
Get outta there quick time, maybe, even with an extra mount.
When red tape is unwarranted, some shit should have to pay.
So, I poisoned their well and stampeded their horses,
took what was mine, plus the lieutenant's palomino
and rode hard Texas bound, where I do declare,
I behave like a lady, fight like a man, and the Mexican army be goddamn!
Providence bless The Lone Star!
No comments:
Post a Comment