In the corner of the bar,
And the waitress walked my way,
Strolling with a gentle sway,
Like a shining star.

I asked her to sing,
But she said: “I know no song,
Believe me, I’d do you no wrong.”
The door bell gave a ring.

In then came a surly brute
By name of Killer Driller Dirt,
He wore blood stains of those he’d hurt,
The many he did shoot.

He said to me: “You are no friend
Of mine today, nor ever will”,
And terrified I sat there, still;
He said: “Your life will end

“Within a bloody haze,
And I will not be seen about
To protect you, to bail you out,
As end becomes your days.”

The waitress flashed her greenish eyes
And said to him: “I believe
None of your talk, I wish you’d leave
And save us from your lies.”

Her name, I’d heard, was Gently:
Gently Sweet And Kind,
And softly in her mind,
Her thoughts shone out intensely.

Killer Driller Dirt
Pulled out a bullet from his pocket,
Forced it into his eye-socket,
And blindly did he hurt.

His eyesight gone and bleeding down,
He started spinning, made me dizzy,
Then, sheriff-like, he said: “I’m busy”
- Threw himself right out of town!

Now Mister Dirt had gone in peace,
I started singing out a song
And Waitress Gently sang along,
As softly as a fleece.

We sang about the hills and bells
That jangled in the distant miles,
And she enchanted with her smiles,
Whilst I ranted with my yells.

Peacefully, the day did fade,
And singing all the time,
We sat their drinking wine;
I thought I had it made

And she then proved me right.
She took my hand, I felt hers soft,
And outside ran we, both aloft,
Under the sweet moonlight.


© 2001 Matt Everett