Coz' of the Widow and the Thief

The man sat slumped inside his office
Head face down on his new desk,
Wearing a brand new suit
smoking a fresh cigar,
Sporting a new pair of boots;
He sat upstairs
Far from the swill of the many men
Also out of earshot of the working whores
Its your laws he frequently ignores
And what laws? I hear you ask
He had a different set
Just for within these walls.
He offers, often persuasive and pushy:
Opium, Whiskey, gamblin'
Violence, murder, tobacco and pussy.
Anything a mans soul could want
Anything rude, crude
that'll cause a mans ruin
Anything that'll fill his safe, his drawers,
fill his pockets and his greasy little paws,
And everyone knew what he was doin'
His steely jet black moustache
Hides the sweat beading on his lip
He pours himself another whiskey
Drinks it, Gulping, refusing to sip.
Tonight he awaits
For the word from his workers
For the verdict of what he previously had ordered...
...that the theif and the widow
be drawn and quartered.
In a single motion
he slammed his hand down hard
and jumped to his feet.
A task too large
to not watch them complete.
The silence.... overwhelming
The wait.... insufferable
The guilt is terrible, immense and unbearable
Too intense for one man to handle.
The echos repeated forever down the canyon
he had shot himself dead,
With a fucking hand cannon.

Mmm of all those that could get overwrought
Powerful drunken men with guns??
Hahahaha....who'd of thought?!