Ian Hunter

(ian hunter)
Death be my mistress, guns be my wife
Breath is my witness and roads are my life
Just give my futures clean as a knife
Far on the way from l.a.
The sun heats the saddle, sand in my hair
Looking for water and theres sweat everywhere
Know that Im nearer I smell damp air
I aint tasted coffee for days
When the leaves are down Ill be southward bound
Hunters hunt the outsider.
When the wind grows cold, when the sun grows old,
Nothing holds the outsider
Just killed a man in a town called nightfall
Damned if I cant remember it all
My hand it was shaking but his talk it was tall