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Mike Hauser
Poems
Oct 2015
The Day I Picked Up The Dead Man's Gun (2nd time around)
I saw my first killing
At the tinder age of thirteen
Two men fell outta the towns saloon
And commenced to fighting in the street
It was at that very moment
My Momma she grabbed me
But Momma couldn't keep me from seeing
What it is I seen
It broke my heart when Momma
Stood on that dusty street and cried
But I still went about my business
When she covered up her eyes
I grabbed the dead mans gun
That's when I told my lie
I told my Momma that I'd be home
Later on that night
But my Momma she never saw
Her young boys face again
'Cept on the wanted posters
Nailed up by many a lawman
Many a lawman lately
That's gunning for my hide
'N' to think it all got started
When the first owner of this here gun of mine died
My killing spree started in Colorado
Then went south for a spell
Every town that I rode up on
Became a living hell
A living hell that no one ever
Had the nerve to give me back
I almost feel sorry for the men
Who ever dared to cross my path
No matter how far or fast I ran
Death was always close behind
In his right hand he holds a flaming sword
On the handle engraved the name is mine
The name is mine
And he knows it well
Deaths one desire
Is my soul in hell
I was twenty one years of age
When a coward shot me in the back
Shot me in the back
Cause it was courage that he lacked
The courage that he lacked
Stopped my deadly run
As fast as it all got started
The day I pick up that dead mans gun
Written by
Mike Hauser
Sunny Florida
(Sunny Florida)
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