A Quick Death In Texas Lyrics - Psychic Warfare - Clutch

My nasty Yankee mannerisms Didn't jive with the local traditions 

How was I to know she had a jealous husband? 

He was the GM of a Tractor Supply Well acquainted with the guns and knives Sometimes I swear I have less sense than a bag of hammers 

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I prayed for courage I prayed for love 

I prayed for guidance from the heavens above 

I prayed to know divine protections 

But now I'm praying for a quick death in Texas 

Please forgive me, Mr. Gibbons 

I crawled my way into The Doom Saloon 

In an attempt to cauterize my wounds 

I did a terrible job and they became powerfully infected 

I found myself atop a stolen roan 

Quite convinced that I would never see home 

And all on account of my lack of common manners 

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The saloon doors stopped swinging 

The piano player stopped playing 

In the shadows I could hear Archaic Spanish phrases 

The preacher stood up from his table In his right hand he held a bible 

And in his left, the business end Of a Winchester rifle 

Beaumont, Amarillo, got a line on me Galveston, El Paso, Nacogdoches, Abilene