(This town ain't big enough for two men with a sweet tooth.) (Step away from the glass case, mister. That cinnamon roll is mine.) The town clock hit the twelve upon the face Two men were standing by the counter case Old Jimmy had his hand upon his belt You could have cut the tension that we felt Behind the glass upon a paper sheet The last glazed cinnamon was looking sweet He looked at me and squinted through the dust He said that rolling out of town was must The waitress dropped the coffee on the floor Nobody took a step toward the door High noon, hands upon the table (High noon) Take it if you think you're able (Think you're able) High noon, draw it in the dust (In the dust) That pastry is a matter of trust (Matter of trust) I took a penny out my leather vest I set it on the laminate to rest I told him I was sitting here since ten And I would not be stepping back again He reached his fingers out toward the plate I grabbed the silver fork and sealed his fate The whole diner held their breath in fear Over thirty cents of breakfast pastry here The waitress dropped the coffee on the floor Nobody took a step toward the door High noon, hands upon the table (High noon) Take it if you think you're able (Think you're able) High noon, draw it in the dust (In the dust) That pastry is a matter of trust (Matter of trust) (Cut it right down the middle.) High noon, hands upon the table (High noon) Take it if you think you're able (Think you're able) High noon, draw it in the dust (In the dust) That pastry is a matter of trust (Matter of trust) We cut the roll in half and ate the crumb And agreed to let tomorrow come (High noon, yeah) (Pay the check)
