A Fistful of Dollars: The Reckoning

They broke my hands on the Rojo floor Then shipped me out in a box of pine Coffin-maker kept the lid nailed loose And through the slats I watched the Baxters die Kerosene on the rafters Men at every door They ran out coughing to the yard And didn't run no more Aim for the heart Aim like you mean it this time Empty every round you own Watch it flatten on the iron Hands wrapped in rags down a caved-in shaft Knuckles split and splinted with twine Hammer on steel till my shoulder burns Beating out a heart he can't find Word came up the ridge They strung Silvanito high Wrists tied to a beam Now it's my turn to ride Aim for the heart Aim like you mean it this time Empty every round you own Watch it flatten on the iron Short fuse on a stick of dynamite The plaza lifts and hangs there brown I come walking out with the poncho down Every Rojo blinking like they've seen me die Aim for the heart Aim like you mean it this time Empty every round you own Watch it flatten on the iron LOAD IT Load it, go on Rifle in the dirt between us First hand to the chamber lives Aim for the heart Both houses burnt down to the frame Esteban folded on the rail Not a soul left on either side to pay Tell the coffin-maker (he's gonna need more pine)