"The Last Sun-down."

In the back, in the back
He got shot in the back,
while drinking his Jack,
in the back

In the back, in the back
He got shot while drinking
his Jack all alone, in the
bar

But this is the way of the
gun that he was killed
while chasing the last
sun-down, on his way out
of town

And he never drank his Jack
mixed, fuck no
He drank it straight-up and
chased it with water
This is the shit whereby
this gun-slinger was made
harder

And all the opium and empty
bottles somehow gave him
solace, when at night in
his dreams would appear all
the fallen
Who at his feet lay dead,
when he had upon them
unleashed his lethal-calling

And in his now haunted mind
he always wonders, "Will
there ever be Forgiveness
for all the killing that I've
done,"
"When I hear the last ticking
clock and shoot my last round
and down my last bottle and
see the last sundown, will I
be able to lay this burden
down,"

But as he sits there at the
table in the dark-corner of
the saloon where many a harsh
aching is washed away, in the
back, in the back, he gets
shot
While drinking his Jack, in
the back, he gets shot
While drinking his Jack, in
the back of the bar all alone,
he gets shot

But this is the way of the
gun that he was killed
while contemplating his last
sun-down

And now this gun-slinger can
lay his gun-belt down
He's heard his last ticking
clock and fired-off his last
round and downed his last
round
For him, the last sun-down
has come