Gunfight at the Golden Mile

Gunfight at the Golden Mile

The gunman took his turret
Why?... We'll never know
The reasons gunmen target
Their irons for the show

With triggers, haired, a mystery
Locked safety in the past
Hammered down the present sees
A future choking fast

Staring down a chamber, grim
One of too many sold
With six shots sailed to the wind
and bullets railed bold

In magazines and clips we see
We watch the chambers turn
Revolving automatically
With lessons left unlearnt

When even White Hats take their fall
'midst Black Hats, gathered tense
The walking wounded raise their call
With dealers deaf to sense

Dealers holding aces high,
With four spent to a pack
Some prefer to gamble sly,
up sleeves the aces rack

Whilst jokers watch casinos burn
No counting of the cards
As faces fall and numbers turn
With spent decks falling hard

Falling sticking where they lay
Regardless of the nap
Regardless of the way it plays
Rough logic, when it snaps

Corralled in pairs and suits they stand
Go fish in barrels penned
Yet when one ace can take a hand,
why would you need ten?

Yet still they take their parapets
These gunmen, boys at play
With cattle, cows washed red in lets,
… and hats stained shades of grey