The Smokers' Standoff - Canvas

The Gunslinger's Ballad

AI Johnny Cash

He sits there, eyes glassy and cold,
His Colt beneath his worn Stetson's fold.
We stare eachother down, dead set on a fight
Neither of us sincere, for neither wants the night.

We play the game, like two poker hands
Our gazes meet, icicles on bare hands.
We both know divinity watches from above
and that no matter how the game is resolved,
a piece of us dies with the call of Dove.

This showdown is a test, of nerve and luck,
We wait, again and again as the clock strikes twelve o'clock.
But whether I should stand or fall,
I know this one thing, this I can recall:
Only time will tell who the true winner be.