THE GUNFIGHTER

There was a white man who

Carried a gun

He was not afraid of anyone

He's faith you see was in his gun.

This weapon he carried at the hip

In a leather holster with a spare clip

A 9mm Parabellum reserved for a black

That might one day cross his track.

He considered himself fast on the draw

His aim too, it was not poor

The police he did not trust at all

This man who was over six feet tall.

He walked down a street in Jo'burg one day

Looking for a place with cards to play

He came at last to a gambling den

And met a black man there called Ben.

The two sat down at a table to play

While a pretty girl brought them

Drinks on a tray

A new pack of cards Ben he split

Against this white he would match his wit.

The white man began heavily to lose

A royal flush on the table Ben laid

He said to the white man:

"Time you paid"

But his money then had run right out

And the drink had gone to his head.

Now Ben was a very angry man

When the white man could not pay

A gun appeared suddenly in his hand

A crash of gunfire filled the air

Of the two the black man was faster there.

A red hole was made in the white man's head

Before he hit the floor he was dead

Rather have faith in God than a gun

Then for you many victories will be won.