Standin' alone, in the soot and stone,
He draws from his holster, a man.
Crawlin' alone, in the soot and stone,
He makes his way home half to death.
In time, and in vain.
I wash my hands of yesterday.
And if I should fall, if I should pass.
In one last stand, before the gates, before the gates of hell.
Crawlin' alone, in the soot and stone.
He makes his way home half to death.
Standin' alone, in the soot and stone.
He draws from his holster...
Yeah...
When sun sets dusk and streets are cleared,
Well this town's renegade is near.
I'm standing tall, awaiting host.
What's it like to see a ghost?
Both outlaws equal, yes indeed,
a one shot rhythm to the gunsling.
So long my sweet...
Bye bye...
Standin' alone through the soot and stone,
He draws from his holster, a man.
Crawlin' alone through the soot and stone,
He makes his way home half to death...
He clenched his fists and said a prayer,
For every breath of dusty air.
He fires loud, awaiting host.
What's it like to be a ghost?
Both outlaws equal, yes indeed,
a one shot rhythm to the gunsling.
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