“The bank blunder”


The buckboard stood with horses down behind the old saloon,
The sheriff made his daily rounds while humming out a tune.
The dance hall at the end of town was lively there inside,
The neighbors all had gathered in reception of the bride.
I rolled up a bull derm cigarette to pass the time a bit,
The town drunk squandered by me as the match I struck and lit.
I couldn't find a better spot myself I had to thank,
for casing out the likely-hood of this old western bank.
I stumbled to the old saloon to have my whiskeys fill,
the robbery has to be today it's my last dollar bill.
I sat down with a shot glass with my gun belt swinging low,
I made my mind up clearly in one hour I would go.
I paid the barkeep out I went into the dusty street,
then staggered down the boardwalk there on two half drunken feet.
In coming to the bank door in a daze I had to sob,
that red eyed hooch had gotten me too drunk to pull the job.
I staggered to the hitching post with drunken rattled brains,
then rode off slowly out of town could barely hold the reins.
As down the trail of tumble weeds without a robbers pay,
my horse and I made weaving tracks of drunk and blue dismay.
But when tomorrow surely comes I'll hit that town again,
and on that note he rode off weaving through the western wind.

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