White horse

 Gimme my horse

My China White

Snow on tip of the needle

Beast through both them veins

Junk on the trunk 

Skag in the truck

Smack on the wrist

H for the Hero

My brown dreams

All the dope but no hope

I used to be like you 

Car and wife

Fruits of love 

On my table too 

But the rotten rots them all 

Gates of heaven on Earth 

For the time of the rush

Purgatory of Hell 

For the time of lack

Gimme my horse

My China White

Snow on tip of the needle

Beast through both them veins

Junk on the trunk 

Skag in the truck

Smack on the wrist

H for the Hero

My brown dreams

All the dope but no hope

Nights are cold

My heart is colder

Blue lights of the station

Giving me a headache

Yell at me

Insult me when passing by

But your fate will be the same

In the end 

We all are ash

Gimme my horse

My China White

Snow on tip of the needle

Beast through both them veins

Junk on the trunk 

Skag in the truck

Smack on the wrist

H for the Hero

My brown dreams

All the dope but no hope

We all are the same

Ash wanting to be God

You pray for the Heavens 

I fly through it

You are empty as I

Pain is the same

I just have the ways 

Gimme my horse

My China White

Snow on tip of the needle

Beast through both them veins

Junk on the trunk 

Skag in the truck

Smack on the wrist

H for the Hero

My brown dreams

All the dope but no hope

Ash

Is the final answer.

Dark country

I have travelled a dusty way

Through the canyons, for long day

They say I have no soul left

Just a mind of killer and theft

They tried to pull a gun on me

I shot them and began my flee

Shotgun on my back, with ball in the pipe

Steady hand and scythe ready to ripe

I stood in the lines, like all the others

Being slaughtered and no one bothers

Rebels they called us, 

It ain't ya much

They hang fifteen men in that day at the gallow

And you tell me, I have only a ballot?

The more I ride, the more Devil says

I have your soul and can't please

You stole a horse and shot a man

Now they shall do whatever they can

To hang you high, hang you tight

There's no jail and no might

That could save you from gun-for-hire

Your life is strait and dire

On a morning, September 1870

When I was older than plenty

A young man, as myself would

Shot me in the chest, 'cause he could

He stole my horse, for his own flee

And there's no one to see.

(*inspired by dark country)