Indian Summer

Hey gunslinger out in the parched deadlands, 
The summer said you couldn’t leave, 
So stick around for a few more states. 
You may be damned to wander the Earth forever, 
But at least you could do it with me. 
The crows circling over skeletons on the ground- 
Fearless as you, flying through fire- 
Haven’t the faintest idea where you’re bound. 
All those Indians you drank with, 
And the cowboys you spilled blood upon, 
None of them heard the grunge of your gun 
Pirouetting on your fingertips as you shot your way 
Through the armada, silencing all poachers. 
In the dead of August you taught me to stop trying, 
For real treasures are not material 
And there was nothing to give a shit about anyway. 
Your morning groan was tattooed in black, 
Your evening laugh was hungry with God. 
Your voice echoed through the lobbies of casinos 
Where we arm-wrestled for ivory with lackluster losers, 
Gambling our lives away, up and down the strip, 
Each Joker laughing with us on the day of victory 
When we decorated the sky with a supernova of beer. 
You said hello to heaven after you died, 
I'll see you again on the fourth of July.