Gentleman Bandit

I had no heart of steel to summon death,
or shame beloved land of my first breath.
A villain fierce did take my future clean,
No fiercer monster I have ever been.
The scar he left, a spur of sharpened steel,
I fear, ’twil shape me ’neath its cutting wheel.
I seek to claim what from me once was took,
My dearest who hath snared me with love’s hook.
For her I’ll turn into a monster true,
Our hearts are chained, pale freedom I eschew.
I don’t regret the death of this fel fiend,
Only that I may ne’er go home again.
The Rat revealed where Jackson hides my love.

Since I was a youth I loved the tales of outlaws, bandits, villains.
Love is dear to me, my lovers absence is a fatal poison.
What could I not do, if ever closer to my love it brought me?
Lonely stood among my fields and farm, my soul will silent shatter.
Death rides after me, he hunts far better than your rougish posse.
Dark my soul does quiet lie, I have no tears to shed for slain vermin.
Horrid blood a-dripping from my hands turns them to beastial talons,
Ever louder in my ear, the cry for lover’s freedom echoes.
Jackson, whoreson, bastard, rat, did take her smile from my embracing,
Now my house no more a home, my farm now just an empty coffin.
She did make my life a life well worth the living in its beauty,
Oh, I pray her eyes will clean the stain of death from off my spirit,
God, if you can hear, let her not turn away in shame from me.

The word freedom, such a word, I wish I had held it captive in the cavern of my heart.
Through the scrub and brush I feared my love had not been stolen, but flew through open doors.
How horrible to hear this wobegone soul was not needed nor desired by such an angel?
Now that the blood of her love stains the ground, so to is my love free to die.
My heart may wander with me ‘cross the plains that bind so tightly to my soul.
A bandit true, I now expel the company of men, the fickle friends and loves.
The warmth and comfort of a home now is lost to me, my farm may rot to ash!
’tis better to seek and find alone upon the open road, then decay under another’s leash.
So, dear lawman, the grace I give to you, who needs me more than my love ever did,
I shall forever more remain a bandit at heart, to chill the blood of rich and miser both.
I do not fear the hangman’s noose, I yearn for its embrace to quell the war within my heart,
But you must catch me first, you who freely, faithfuly, chased me ‘cross this arid land.
Do not be afraid, I ride onward tomorrow. Chase me quick, for I loathe the distance between us.