Laredo

She was riding the streets of Laredo
Her sidearm being a Colt forty-five
No bloodlust, no anger or obscure credo
She just wanted her man somehow still alive

She slowly entered the Steerhorn Saloon
Saw gamblers, thugs and one tired whore
The barkeep looked far too much like a goon
The rest just seemed deranged to the core

She finds her love upstairs with a floozie
Just boots still on "for traction," he slurs
She then recalls he never was choosy
Just whores, and hookers, then finally hers

So she places the Colt deep in his mouth
And fires one round to the top of his throat
She then sprints to her pinto, travelling south
Doing her best not to cackle or gloat.