Tombstone a home for some.
A holster
gun
some ammunition.
Rob the bank bring to fruition
history
more ammunition.

Up on boothill
down at heel
how can you feel so cool?
Earp's no fool he'll shoot and hit
then spit
as death chews on your bones
More empty homes in
Tombstone.

A lodestone
a rhinestone
everybody's got a bone
to pick.
Another hick ambles into town
gunned down
blown away
a tombstone day
not much I can say
about that.