Dusk not Dawn

Woe is the man who ventures far.
He leaves his life behind.
His companion stays by his side.
Through thick and thin they fight.

Woe is the man who never stays.
He kills in self defense.
His horse at night haunts us all.
Through dust and wind they travel far.

Woe are the men who dare to fight.
They draw at dusk not dawn.
Their friends they look on in fear.
Through the night they stare

Woe is the man who never dies.
He fights himself for control.
His guns are rarely drawn.
Through flesh and bone his bullets fly.

Woe is the man who drinks their blood.
He speaks to you so softly.
His fangs do peirce your light skin.
Through your body his eyes will see.

Woe are the men who dare to fight.
They draw at dusk not dawn.
Their friends look on in fear.
Through the night they stare.