No wonder they called him the Hippopotamus
And the other one was Nobody
But when they met, all hell broke loose
And a lonely child forgot his tears, for a while…..
Bullets flew like magic
A few skulls were cracked
(Not to mention, a few castrations happened as well)
And blood never seemed so pretty before!
Desert storms became fun
And a hundred wild slingers
shooting in all directions
were just a hundred wild slingers shooting in all directions….
with his gun
with his fist
Would never betray the child….
God forgave, they didn’t!
And when the music was over
Trinity rode with Bambino,
Salud with Plata,
and Blackie with Skull –
Each in their own million lost directions….
Whenever you see a haunted hamlet
And hear the soft rattling of some broken saloon door
Think of them,
For they're riding still!
And the moon shines down those rugged caves,
the dream-thirsty rattlesnakes slither
along those cracks of the dead west,
The wind keeps on howling through the weary oaks
older than time whispering forgotten songs
And the stars keep on watching in steely silence
as two forlorn shadows ride across the desert…
They know it
The child knows it too
That some flames never die!