SWAMPY

Noon high Noon high Noon high You're gonna die Noon high Somewhere out Texas way A young kid called Redd, that's with two D's Eager, maybe too much so Thinks he's some kind of gunslinging, barrel-toting hotshot People used to say that young boy's gonna get himself shot And sooner or later that notion blossomed itself outta nothin' So it was, the boy, and a man trying to steal his lady There wasn't so much as a piece of horse shit dropping onto the ground that could be heard that fateful high noon, noon high The aforementioned antagonist? Why that's Swampy Some say he's half man, half swamp I say he's full of shit! Either way, young Redd had his work cut out for him Redd had two things in his hands that fateful afternoon, a dusty .45 in his left, and a twitchy finger and all the naivety in the world in his right On the other hand, Swampy was decked to the nines Pristine leather boots, two brand-spankin' new pistols on each hip, and spurs that could make a stallion shit bricks Broooo! The only thing that stood between Swampy and Redd in that moment was the realization that one of them was about to die Before you knew it, one step became five, five became ten, and like a flash of the almighty sun, they would draw Soon the dust would settle, the townsfolk nowhere in sight Ears still a' ringing, a wickedly vile gunfight A sudden realization would befall amongst the grisly gore A decorated Swamp-man would Swamp-man no more! And so it was, and unlikely victor rose Nare a scratch, beginners luck I suppose A legend was born on that hot Texan day Young Redd had got his woman back, a lucky kid to stay