Ballad of the Bayfield Butcher

All burnt out and brittle-boned, sore atop his horse
Rain welling in his Stetson, face weathered and coarse
The calico he rides on, a mirror of him
A scar across its right eye, ribs poke through its skin
Lost enough in the wild dusk, no wish to be found
The sun dips past the world's end, he follows it down
Out of the verdant mountains to the bleak twilight
Of the muddy tablelands, pulled into the night

And the Bayfield Butcher outlived everyone
Who cared at all about putting him on the wrong end of a gun
And the Bayfield Butcher, he's had to learn
No legend lasts forever and they all end up in the dirt

There's a town in the distance, forty years ago
He waltzed on into the bank, pistol to unload
Then on and on to the next, up and down the coast
Leaving only in his wake dead men and their ghosts
But he ain't no Jesse James, no Butch Cassidy
Seems not a soul remembers the Butcher's tyranny
There's a small posse ahead but they ride on past
And he's left all but feeling like time moves too fast

And the Bayfield Butcher outlived everyone
Who cared at all about putting him on the wrong end of a gun
And the Bayfield Butcher, he's had to learn
No legend lasts forever and they all end up in the dirt

Now the rain's easing off so he starts a fire
Prepares a dismal dinner scored by a cicada choir
And, yeah, he may have got away but what's he got left
When every story like this one ends in jail or death?

And the Bayfield Butcher outlived everyone
Who cared at all about putting him on the wrong end of a gun
And the Bayfield Butcher, he's had to learn
No legend lasts forever and they all end up in the dirt