Gunfighter, living by the law of the gun, a law that says-when the bullet hit the body, the blood starts to run-
Gunfighter, riding rough, from sunrise to sunset, you're living by the law of the gun, and your mind and your heart, they won't-let you forget.
Gunfighter, you wish you could settle down,
but there's too
many posters of you, wanted dead or alive,
still hanging around-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem