Harley And Ned Devine

Gingerly held in his trembling hand was the long-barreled Winchester
gun
Even though young Harley proved an excellent student
The thought of it's weight made him overly prudent
He was honor bound by strict moral codes, laws of the western sun

He twirled the smoothness of his pearl-handled six-shooters
Hours of practice till he was much more than just satisfied
I want to be a US Marshall, smartly hailed and glorified
My tin-star brightly polished, same as my new leather boots

Given the devil's chance to prove himself at 12 o'clock, highnoon
Into town rode that evil outlaw gunslinger, Wicked Ned Devine
And his gang of murdering robbers, lawless unkept brutish swine
Harley would soon find out from which noble tree he was hewn

All their true aiming shots hit the bank's president
His life was not spared, noble husband and father, pointblank he
painfully died
One less good man in a disillusioned land and Harley bitterly
cried
I'll see each of you rot in Satan's Hell as his tormented permanent
residents

Harley's bullets flew blessed, whizzing straight to their marks
Those cowardly villians didn't know what hit them, they all stood
petrified
Except for Wicked Ned Devine, he was not a man to run and hide
The gunslinger and lawman fired off dozens of shots, warring til way
after dark

One stray bullet found Harley and he said to himself, I'm a goner
But his Marshall's shiny tin badge saved him from certain death
The deep indentation stung like a scorpian hornet, he swiftly inhaled a
breath
Ned Devine, you'll pay for your sins, I swear on my code of honor

Righteous courage and uncommon valor poured forth, like a mighty river
run
Harley jumped to his feet, opted for a cowboy's lasso and quickly roped
Ned Devine
Tomorrow comes his much heralded hanging, a fitted noose, the end of
the line
Harley's become a living legend, still bound by the strict moral code
of the western sun