Mister Time. Poem by Bryan Sefton

Mister Time is dressin up in buckskin
Puttin on his coonskin hat n bowie knife
Pickin up his gun he's loadin it with buckshot
Sayin that the trails hot, he says goodbye to his wife
Disaster, the one who's really after me

Head down he moves around, walkin and a stalkin
Hunting up the rabbit in the faded denim jeans
Who never did a body harm, workin on his father's farm
Until he heard the big city callin out to him
And he went, lookin for the big time, searchin for the highlife
Seekin out the street that's paved in silver and gold
And there he was, down among the low lives, carrying a switchknife
Hidin, dodgin, Lord! And don't the nights grow cold

Mister Time is just about to bag me
when somethin sorta tells me he's got me in his sights
I whip round fast, find I'm in a corner
Poor little Jack Horner says hello to the wife
Disaster. She's been a long time after me

Well I put on a face so tearful and pathetic
It would have drove a mercenary killer to tears
What did they do? Well, Disaster started laughin
And Time he started grabbin at his guts like they were killin him
And me? I started willin him to die

But by and by, he picks up the gun apullin at the trigger
I feel a sorta quiver like a shiver through my body
And I'm droppin like a stone and man your never so alone
As at the time that you are- - dyin