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He rode into town one dust storm, |
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Sheepskin cloak across his back. |
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A preacher man with kind old eyes, |
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And a mystery for a past. |
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He said he'd come to teach about the love of |
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God, But he soon learned what they were missing there |
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Was justice and the law. |
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There was a cattleman who claimed his clan owned all the land around. |
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And any brave fool who that might dispute, |
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He was quick to snuff 'em out. |
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He'd say, "Take my heed and you won't pay the price. 'Cause honor and a name ain't worth a damn if you don't have your life." |
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He'd say, "Ain't nobody faster than this cattle man's gun. I'm a rattlesnake on the trigger. Your last stand'll be lyin' in the sand, Fallin' to the slam of my hammer." |
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So one man taught forgiveness, |
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While the other taught suffering. |
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The preacher said deliverance, |
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Could be found out on their knees. |
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He said, "I know that you want justice And you want blood, But believe me when I say to you, Don't try and be that man's judge. 'Cause ain't nobody faster than that cattleman's gun, He's a rattlesnake on the trigger, Your last stand'll be lyin' in the sand, Fallin' to the slam of his hammer." |
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One day a young farmer brought his sons to town for feed. |
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And he noticed that the streets were quiet, and he knew what that might mean. |
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The smoke rose in the distance, |
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His farm burned to the ground. |
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He let the fury overtake him, |
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When Cattle |
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Man came back to town. |
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Those boys ran out from behind the crowd, |
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And watched their daddy die, |
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The big man laughed and said, "Now look at that. Anybody else wanna give it a try?" |
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Well, the church doors opened with that black cloak flowin' behind the preacher's fiery eyes. |
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He said, "Your ticket to Hell is a comin' to you, And I got a hollow-point to give you the ride." |
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And the only thing faster than the cattle man's gun, |
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Was the preacher's handy finger, |
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He pulled iron from his side and let that bullet fly, |
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Beat the rattlesnake to the hammer. |
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While the preacher embraced forgiveness, |
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Oh, they finally understood, |
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Under that sheepskin cloak of his, |
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Was a history of blood. |
