The deputy walks on high heels and the preacher rides a mount
Not much matters, though, it’s only the end that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker blows a futile horn”
Come in,” she said, “I’ll give it to ya, shelter from the storm.”
Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”