For a Few Dollars More: Worth More Dead

Some fool put two zeroes Beside the number on the page Thinks a bigger price beneath his face Might make him harder to erase I fold the paper at the eyes And tuck it inside my coat A thousand printed at the fold Is all I really need to know Name Description Where he fled Some men spend their whole lives Trying to be worth more dead Put a number on your head Pin your picture to the wall Someone always names the price Someone always comes to call You can bargain with the sheriff You can disappear instead But paper travels farther And you're worth more dead Five cards spread beneath his hand Two thousand printed by his face He watches every swinging door But never mine until too late The dealer doesn't touch the deck A glass stops halfway to his teeth I lay the folded paper down And let him read his own receipt Name Description Where he fled Ink can turn a breathing man To a payment not yet made Put a number on your head Pin your picture to the wall Someone always names the price Someone always comes to call You can bargain with the sheriff You can disappear instead But paper travels farther And you're worth more dead The sheriff counts them one by one Straightens every folded bill His fingers stop at one thousand Mine are resting perfectly still Behind him twenty faces wait Each carrying a price I take the largest from the wall Don't need to read it twice Fold the corner Mark the trail Find the room Collect the sale PAPER PRICE PICTURE NAME EVERY MAN REDUCED THE SAME How much are you worth? Put a number on your head Pin your picture to the wall Someone always names the price Someone always comes to call Bribe the badge or cross the border Run until your lungs give out The paper never needs to hurry It already knows your route Another face Another town Another number Still unpaid