Soon, maybe tonight
you will get everything you deserve, mister.
Soon, soon Mr. Doyle
I will knock at your door, yes, tonight. Yes, tonight.
You'll get yours.
I hold a Holy gun
by the grace of God.
Soon you will be
buried alone with your Navy Jack, mister.
Soon you will remember my name
when I'm pointing you, Dixie man.
You'll get yours.
I hold this Holy gun
by the grace of God.
Dusk.
There's a light in the house.
I will slip in through that fence.
Hush
pretty dog, go away,
this won't last for too long.
So I knock with the gun in my hand.
I can hear now your steps.
I better get out of here
I better hurry