Choose a track to play
He was more than just a decent man
Best friend I ever had
When you're shooting at a coffee can
A .38 don't kick that bad
But it kicks right through my bones
Every second of every day
Clacking by like cobblestones
Under broken wheels
And if the truth be known
I wasn't doing that well
I wasn't paying attention
I brought it on myself
And I blamed it on the gods
That seemed to smile on everybody else
I got so inside out
I didn't know what was real
My fields are empty now
My ground won't take the plow
It's washed down to gravel and stones
It's only good for burying bones
I took the pistol off the wall
Somebody hollered, "Put it back
Sit down, Dad, before you fall down
You got no earthly use for that"
But I slipped out the kitchen door
Saddled up the swayback mule
Cinched her tight and swung on board
Rode off like a drunken fool
Rode right on off the world
Just like it never mattered none
There wasn't nothing but me and the hurt
And the biting cold and the heft of that gun
And the pocket of a sheepskin coat
Moonlight in a madman's eye
For the unfairness of it all
Surely something had to die
My fields are empty now
My ground won't take the plow
It's washed down to gravel and stones
It's only good for burying bones
He came out in the lantern light
His face in the flash was the last I saw
Of the world when it was still right
I didn't watch him fall
I knew I'd hit him good
Twice in the chest without a thought
Turned the mule towards the county seat
Like I knew I ought
My fields are empty now
My ground won't take the plow
It's washed down to gravel and stones
It's only good for burying bones
My fields are empty now
My ground won't take the plow
It's washed down to gravel and stones
It's only good for burying bones
Lola comes to visit
Just nothing I can say
We sit here of an afternoon
'Til it's time for her to go away
She rides home on that same mule
That brought me to this place
Don't know how she even stands
To look upon her daddy's face
He was more than just a decent man
Best friend I ever had
When you're shooting at a coffee can
A .38 don't kick that bad