A Quick Death in Texas

My nasty Yankee mannerisms Didn't jive with the local traditions How was I to know she had a jealous husband? He was the GM of a Tractor Supply Well acquainted with the guns and knives Sometimes I swear I have less sense than a bag of hammers [Chorus] I prayed for courage I prayed for love I prayed for guidance from the heavens above I prayed to know divine protections But now I'm praying for a quick death in Texas Please forgive me, Mr. Gibbons I crawled my way into The Doom Saloon In an attempt to cauterize my wounds I did a terrible job and they became powerfully infected I found myself atop a stolen roan Quite convinced that I would never see home And all on account of my lack of common manners The saloon doors stopped swinging The piano player stopped playing In the shadows I could hear Archaic Spanish phrases The preacher stood up from his table In his right hand he held a bible And in his left, the business end Of a Winchester rifle Beaumont, Amarillo, got a line on me Galveston, El Paso, Nacogdoches, Abilene