At fourteen paces we stood back to back. So close in the silence, waiting to attack. Guns a-holstered, hands at our sides, She called once more and we took our strides.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, more. Not long now, 'til one hit the floor. Bleeding from a shot, pumped full of lead. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, dead.
It was pistols at dawn, and she called out to fire. You aimed low and I aimed higher. The bullet hit my knee, I fell to the ground, But you're the one sweet justice found.
You died in the dust, and stained the earth red, A pity, you know, so young, yet you bled. So I call this a lesson, to y'all still torn, Cut me at sunset, and I'll kill you at dawn.