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Array
(
[sid] => 128975
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Doc Holiday
[time] => 2006-12-03 05:52:42
[hometext] => F.W.
[bodytext] => The saloon is open tonight No stranger knows just what’s in store The crowd turns quiet from the swinging door Back on out of the way, Doc Holiday I said “Why’ve you got to argue with the law of man?” “Don’t you know you’re just a child?” Only someone like me can understand You should be wary of what you’ve riled Full suit of black just to match the mood I’m dark like this smoke up and rising I’ll kill you on sight if you come off as rude Hell, I’m the image of despising And when you asked for a hand mine was out to grab I put my gun before my head Now I’m tortured by ghosts I laid out on the slab For every person saved there’s another two dead There’s a foul wind coming by The tumbleweed’s have blown through Between the good both far and few And no good conscience may stay, Doc Holiday Can’t you just keep order for once? I’d like a little time to escape my fate Stead of running round like gunslinger’s in silence In some constant divine debate The tip of my hat is downward There’s a man coming in like I owe him some time I thought the west would’ve helped me keep cured But this mans got something to find The sun’s going down here like a spaghetti western With a close up on my face If there’s some heaven I think it’s earned And it owes me a place Love found cold on a hospital bed The nurses have nothing to say Just another legend gone away And who else would of gone that day, Doc Holiday? [comments] => 0 [counter] => 403 [topic] => 42 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => mythology )
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