Justice of the Colt 45

By: Fee

It was when the music stopped and the curtain dropped

While the lights dimmed the message last call

While the old wino’s dosed and the red harlots posed

At the hour all those imagined pretences fall

He zipped up his jacket, gulped the last of his beer

And slightly unsteady he rose to his feet

Pulled his hat over his hair, pushed back his chair

Then turned slowly recognizing defeat

For on the stage that night, he saw a tantalizing sight

The red head lady named Vic he once held dear

In the light she danced round the pole, losing her soul

To the cheap dollars tucked in front and rear

The fire grew in his eyes, a smile couldn’t disguise

And he felt the cold steel in his hand as he aimed

A smoking Colt 45, made her more dead than alive

And with the second shot his love anger was tamed…