A story song, trying to capture the feeling of the old west in terms of a hired gun here. Texas ranger, deputy marshal or other.
The last day in a life.

BIAB tracks:
Bass - 701
Guitars - 2444, 4012, 665, 3700
Drums - Mallets folk slow eighths
Drum stems - Americana slow rock
(Kick, Snare Bottom, Tom Floor)

https://soundcloud.com/vic-arnold/gunfighter?si=bf7f3f67708e4225ba34553acc429356&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Gunfighter © 2025 Vic Arnold
V1
Coming from the south of town,
cold eyes like a snake,
scanning left, right and up and down.
The brain is wide awake.
He knows the actions,
from all those other times.
Ignoring all distractions,
waiting for a sign.
V2
Forwards at a steady pace,
hands hang loosely at his side.
This ain't no walking race.
Deadly business on his mind.
His fingers trace the pistols,
feels the comfort in cold steel.
Focused on the mission.
Just another deal.
Ch.
Somebody has to pay.
Somebody has to die.
You know it's always been that way,
from the earth up to the sky.
He knows it can't be him.
He just knows it can't be him.
Not this time
Inst.
V3
The lady walks across the street.
He tips his hat and smiles.
She turns back, waves her hand to greet.
The sun is in his eyes.
Thunder roars from where she stands.
A burning in his chest.
Too late now he understands,
this time, he weren't the best.
Ch.