Michael Buller songs
Waiting At Home
Copyright 2015 Michael Buller
He rode hard into town
On a mare named Clementine
Headed for the Red Garter Saloon
He heard the man was there
Who gunned his brother down
He was hell bound to send him to his doom
He had fire in his eyes
The path to Hell in his hands
And twelve lead slugs sure to guide him there
He had a heart as hard as stone
A mind set to kill
And his brothers little girl waiting at home
With an unbroken stride
He walked through those swingin' doors
In a stern voice called his name out loud
When their eyes finally met
A cold chill sliced through the air
A shudder of fear swept through the crowd
Cause he had fire in his eyes
The path to Hell in his hands
And twelve lead slugs sure to guide him there
He had a heart as hard as stone
A mind set to kill
And a family of his own waiting at home
As they walked out of those swingin' doors
To the dusty streets of town
A single shot rang out
The man lay dead....on the ground
With tears in her eyes
A smoking twelve guage in her hands
The grieving widow sent him straight to Hell
Copyright 2015 Michael Buller
He rode hard into town
On a mare named Clementine
Headed for the Red Garter Saloon
He heard the man was there
Who gunned his brother down
He was hell bound to send him to his doom
He had fire in his eyes
The path to Hell in his hands
And twelve lead slugs sure to guide him there
He had a heart as hard as stone
A mind set to kill
And his brothers little girl waiting at home
With an unbroken stride
He walked through those swingin' doors
In a stern voice called his name out loud
When their eyes finally met
A cold chill sliced through the air
A shudder of fear swept through the crowd
Cause he had fire in his eyes
The path to Hell in his hands
And twelve lead slugs sure to guide him there
He had a heart as hard as stone
A mind set to kill
And a family of his own waiting at home
As they walked out of those swingin' doors
To the dusty streets of town
A single shot rang out
The man lay dead....on the ground
With tears in her eyes
A smoking twelve guage in her hands
The grieving widow sent him straight to Hell
You do not have permission to comment on songs.