Not a sound do I hear — all is sleeping; that is all 'cept me.

     Here I lie waiting for the moon to drop the vigil it's keeping;

Soon it will die — and so will I.



Yes, here I lie, thinking of the night before, when I stood drinking

     at the bar — and door.



Oh, I knew he would come soon, and with all his might roar

     "I've come! And as I come you'll be no more!"



And he did come — I did not run — And as he came he drew his gun!

     But I drew first — and he was done! — But wait! A gun! — there

was none!



And then I knew — My mind had tricked me well! I had delivered my

     body, my soul into hell — I had fired when he had no gun — his

holster was empty! — It could not be undone.



So now, as I watch the morning rise — I moan for myself: smoke

     waters my eyes.



I can now see the hangman knotting his rope — Soon they'll come for

     me — I fear there's no hope.



Yet I know I shall not be afraid of the noose — I shall utter not a sound

     'till the trap is loose.



But wait! — A fear now grips me — must it be so hard?

     My once brave state of being is now completely marred!



Yes, fear now strangles me — and so will the rope — I'm crying now

     out loud — I now know there's no hope.



They're placing the noose 'round my throat — they know how so well.

     The last sound I hear — the trap being sprung.



Justice served — Just as well!