A Place in Hell

He's wanted. Dead or alive, he'll do just about anything to survive. His heart is as black as the face of spades. He whistles as he wipes the blood from his blades. No posse can catch him. He rides like the wind. Got a place in hell for all the times he's seen. He's quick on the draw and he shoots to kill. He's said more notorious than Wild Bill. He fends for himself as life's treated him rough. He had to learn early on to act to be tough. There's a price on his head that many want to claim. Trigger fingers twitch at the sight of his name. Got a place in hell. When the devil tolls the bell. Got a place in hell. A drifter. No fixed abode. Always riding down that lonesome road. The sick shooter's the only thing he can trust. And a glass or two of rye to wash away the dust. Now and again a soft-breasted whore. He has no need for anything more. He's a loner. No family, no bride. No mourners will weep at his grave site. No preacher can save his sadistic soul. He's beyond salvation. Out of control. He knows each day may be his last. Then he'll have to atone for his peccable past. Got a place in hell. When the devil tolls the bell. Got a place in hell. Because he sold youself.