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I was sittin in The Thirsty Devil, one sheet hung to the wind
when the bat wings doors creaked open and a stranger sauntered in
he moved his head from side to side and glared with a sunken eye
I heard the spin of a rusty spur as he shook off the dreary night
he lowered his hat, checked his gun and headed toward the bar
walked on up beside me, I knew heâd traveled far
in a voice as thick as mud he looked to the âkeep and saidâ¦
âone shot of whiskey for myself and one for my new friendâ
the patrons whispered hushed and low, they seemed to be afraid
as if a ghost had stood right up and walked out of its grave
his face was shallow and dirty, his skin like leather hide
sure he spoke like any man, but something wasnât right
so I twisted on my stool, turned to him and said
âthank you sir, but just the same, Iâm chasin worms insteadâ
he growled and shoved the drink my way, his eyes cold as death
âI pick the drinks, you knock âem back, else draw against my handâ
chorus:
when itâs six to midnight and the boney hand of death is nigh
you better drink your drink and shut your mouth
if you draw against his hand, you can never win
go ahead⦠drink with the living dead
âwho the hell do you think you are?â my patience growin thin
but swallow hard, I had to do, when the story he began
his lips curled back and words came forth starting up the tale
and every face inside that bar turned a shade of pale
âmy name is Stanton Cree and I died three years before
I shot a man to steal his drink, at least thatâs what they hung me for
now Iâm cursed to walk the earth and challenge every night
a man to match me drink for drink or by the bullet dieâ
ânow wait a minute, mister, no one makes me a foolâ
I pushed the shot of whiskey back on over towards the ghoul
âI love a drink like any man but thatâs a losin game
to drink or draw against the dead would only be insaneâ
Stanton Cree tipped his hat and laughed a wicked laugh
âyou see, the lord cursed my soul for killin that poor man
there ainât no choice so you must try to match me shot for shot
if you win, then youâll go free and I can finally rotâ
the barhop nodded slowly and I knew that I was screwed
if I chose to duel the dead then I would surely lose
so I took the glass and threw the shot into my throat
I would match him drink for drink, no matter if I choked
whiskey, tequila, vodka, rum or gin
ainât no man that I canât beat, be him live or dead
so into the morning I matched him ounce for ounce
til Stanton Cree fell over and a winner was announced
now he rests in his pine box and I still walk the streets
but I donât forget the night when death had chosen me
there ainât no fancy moral to go with this I fear
unless you aim to kill a man and drink down his last beer!
- Album:
- Mistress of the Dark
- The Unforgotten: Rare & Un-Released
- Tales From the Dead West
- Kicked Outta Purgatory: Psychobilly for Sinners!
- This Is Horrorpunk
- Boots of Hell
- Release the Rats
- Damn Near the Ultimate Goth CD
- Live From Texas!
- Bury Them Deep
- Life After Sundown
- And Crows Will Dig Your Grave
- The Best Music This Side of Heaven
- Live from Texas! (CD & DVD)
- Ghost of the Southern Son
- Bury Them Deep (Extended Version)