Late December

Weak from travelling tired and thirsty
He's been two years on the road
In pursuit of one who left him
And the man with whom she rode

In his bag lies a revolver
In his eyes there's only hate
And he's angered to discover
Once again he's arrived too late

On... on... and on he'll be gone,in the morning
On till it's gone, all the reason for his mourning

It was evening Late December
When he finally, he tracked them down
In a cold flat they surrendered
Within moments two shots rang out
Now his searching has been ended
And his reason for living too
As the year closed that December
It claimed his life and his soul too