Killed by a .45

Every night you could set your clock by the time that he walked in
Set himself down at the end of the bar, looking all worn and thin
He was somebody’s son, he was somebody’s baby, he was somebody’s next to kin
All I know is that he played the eleven over and over again

It was a country song about a love gone wrong
Brought a sigh and a tear to his eye
With a tear in his voice he would sing that song
And he sounded like he wanted to die

I saw him walkin’ by the railroad tracks like a man who lost his way
Singing that song that he played each night in an oh-so-mournful way
I asked him if he wanted a ride but he just kept moving along
He just hummin’ and lookin’ at the ground and singin’ that lonesome song

Found him Sunday morning slumped over in his car
He played that song a hundred times his last night in the bar
Some folks said it was a broken heart, others said suicide
But I know better ‘cause I seen it all, he was killed by a .45

It was a country song about a love gone wrong
Brought a sigh and a tear to his eye
With a tear in his voice he would sing that song
Lord he sounded like he wanted to die