Billy went to the saloon
To drown his shame away.
He knew the law would be there soon,
But it didn’t matter anyway.
Suddenly the door folded in.
Gin stood there, about 6’4″.
He gave Billy a half grin,
“Bartender, give Billy one more.”
Billy wished he could say no,
But he knew his mind was weak.
He shot it down fast, then tried to go.
Gin said, “We need to speak.”
Billy knew why Gin was there.
Billy had killed his brother.
He knew he could run nowhere,
He flipped a table and dove for cover.
Gin pulled his steel, and cocked the lever.
Pointed at the table Billy was behind.
The gun suddenly felt heavy in his hands of leather.
For as big as Gin was, he was too kind.
“Billy, come out from behind there.”
Billy peaked from over the side.
He knew in this moment he should care.
But he also knew, Gin would die.
He came out real fast,
Pulled his gun,
Gave it one blast,
And then it was done.
Gin was no more.
His body fell to the floor
The sheriff came in, knocking down the door.