A half bottle of whiskey sits on the table
The wandering stranger sits on the floor
A dreamer by fault, his passageway's the highway
Hate, greed, envy, sadness, he's felt it all
His breath smells of drink but his heart is pure
He looks around, his eyes tunnels of emotion
For his unforgettable sadness there's no escape
To fall back down is death's promotion

His thoughts, memories, they're his only baggage
He's accepted fate, there is no cure
He curses wisdom and embraces ignorance
He's seen his end, that he knows for sure
Pain is normally the way to go, but not now
This time he has to choose to give up or run
He grips his gun handle, his jaw clenched tight
To fight and face up to the fear of the gun

He's a highwayman, just and true
A life of strife, a man on wits end
He cries out in in distress at lifes cruel ways
As he turns round his lifes next bend
Unblinking, he surveys his last sunset
The rays washing over him, almost soothing
A single tear runs down his course, scarred cheek
He gave out his love and it's ended with his killing

He steps out of the creaky doors, bright sunlight
Puts his guns down on the floor, Death, no fight