The Gambler and His Colt 45

In a white three piece of the finest cotton
The gambler frequents the riverboat often
Though the games on that ship would wax and wane with fashion
The game of five card draw remained his passion
Many a man yearned for the secret to success
It’s a jack up the sleeve and a bullet to the breast
And if you ask about those that could not pay their debts
They’re feeding the catfish on the Mississippi depths
Draw a jack
Spit it back
Draw the hammer
Of my Colt 45
On a fevered August night a drifter boarded
With stringy red hair and a face contorted
The drifters desire was a point of assumption
He came for the root of evils consumption
In the haze of his past he followed stonewall
While his wife was on the end of a musket ball
The drifter has frequently escaped death
The black on his fingers and the scars on his neck
Draw a jack
Spit it back
Draw the hammer
Of my Colt 45
As fate would orchestra the two men met
In a game of five card they began to bet
The pigeons dropped off and the stakes would raise
The table came down to a two cheater game
As the devil overlooked they bet everything they got
Each man shed his soul into that cursed part
The time had come but the revealed cards were damned
Aces and eights of the same suit in each hand
Draw a jack
Spit it back
Draw the hammer
Of my Colt 45
Two Colt 45 rustled from their hustlers
Fire and lead sang each shooter the composer
A charge found home in the gamblers chest
Blown off the rails he drew his last breath
You can cheat all your life but you can’t cheat death
You can cheat all your life but you can’t cheat death