A purple setting sun.
More dark fun.
On the run.
With our rag tag.
Band of brothers.
No thought.
For the mothers.
Of the others.
As we gunned them down.
On our way through town.
Twilight hid our escape.
Into the interior landscape.
Across the silent prairie.
We did ride.
Damnation on our side.
Salvation denied.
We danced with the devil.
In the cold moonlight.
Safe in the knowledge.
He had our backs for the fight.
What was once just a jaunt.
Our dreams now do haunt.
The true meaning of our infractions.
The consequences of our actions.
Woke under the morning dew.
No thoughts for the massacred few.
Whose lives we’d taken.
Their futures forsaken.
For a bag of gold coins.
That girded our loins.
On to the next town.
To rampage and murder.
A heathen consciousness.
The only observer.
Setting Sun
thejrpc 