I"ve died on the streets of Old Dodge City
rain water running up my nose,
and I"ve died on the hot pavement
gotten road tar and gravel on my clothes.
I"ve died in dusty parking lots,
got my frock coat covered with dirt
even fell on a sharp rock one time
I tell you my friends that one really hurt.
Once I died in nice soft grass
laying there playing out the skit,
but there were bugs living in there
really ain"t a-tellin where I was bit.
When I"m down there on a hot day
my role is over and done,
I wish for my hat o"er my face
someone save me from that hot burnin" sun.
Can"t move, breathe, scratch or even twitch
all the time I"m just thinking
hurry up and get this dang thing over with.
The others have finished their parts
we"re just waiting for the applause,
I keep on reminding myself
I know in my heart it"s for a good cause.
Finally the skit is over
and I get to come back alive,
but my knees are popping louder
than all the rounds fired from my forty-five.
As I make my way out slowly
to meet and mingle with the crowd,
I bear with the pain in my back
I"m trying to keep from groaning out loud.
But, in seconds it becomes worth all the pain
a small boy pushes his way through,
comes up and shakes my hand and says
"Can I have a picture with you?"
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
