Saloon:

Verse 1:
Now once upon a time, not long ago,
There was a man with a plan, and a heart of gold.
He was a drifter, rode in slick, swifter than a whisper.
Hip holstered heater, was a gift from his sister.

He promised he’d return treasures and riches.
And a federal prison wasn’t what he envisioned.
But one decision would grip him a couple warrants and wishes.
A collision with the law could end it all for his business.

Lucky for him, he happened to be quick on the draw.
The fastest gun in the west, yes, the best of them all.
Droppin anyone that stood in his way straight to their knees.
But a job went south that should’ve went down with ease.

And so he, needed a safe house, a safe escape route.
A place that he could stay and lay his head when things would break out.
But where to go? He knew he had to know soon,
Before shit really started to pop off, like a balloon.

Hook: (x2)
At the Saloon.
Go grab round at the bar,
play cards, after dark, start drinkin at noon,

At the Saloon,
We’ll chill and smoke a cigar,
And throw darts, no marks, just a couple of goons,

Verse 2:
He rounded up his posse, told the cops “Don’t try and stop me!”
Not too odd to cop a crop of guap but broadly not a copy.
Now he got the sheriff awfully hot and thought that he’d be sorry,
If he tried to stop him he’d make sure his shot would not be sloppy.

All he needed was a single big robbery.
Bring back the gold and the cash back to his property.
And fightin poverty was a product of oddity.
Probably win the lottery and distribute it properly.

See, His only goal was get the money and run,
It never was his intentions to go and bloody his gun,
But the sheriff was a twisted old drunk,
Good and evil seamlessly equal when people seem to perceive them as one.

And so our passionate anti-hero protagonist,
Grabbed the cash and dashed as fast as opposite of molasses quick.
Right then and there was where the sheriff met his doom,
Now it was time to relax, and kick back.
(Hook x2)