Yes, dry. Quite dry there.
Tarantulas all over the ropes that held the horses. (Allegedly)
I stood on the Good law, on the Sheriff's side, becoming (soon) the ONLY side.
On Barren's Edge,
Where the streets appear only on the Sheriff's map,
where the tumbleweeds scrape the surface OF THE HORSES RANGE there is a dusty cliff and he can see the ocean from there.
Who again.....................................................?
you wouldn't know and he tied a horse around his shoe.
Upon the Sheriff's village.
Yes, a village: a new open branch: tainted.
Such molasses falling and falling thick and slowly drowning the tongue of the Sheriff.
"MURDER!
MURDER!!
MUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDEEEEEEERrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRR"
A witch ran across the village,
chased with the fire nearing...
The fog and the sea on her side.
Burn the witch. Burn the witch. Burn the witch. Burn the witch. Burn the w-
Again, the sea on her side.
On the Good side: please, no longer the Sheriff's side.
A black fog around her whispers:"Forlorn is not the rose that wraps the single thorn around the Horse's leg.
Forlorn is the rose that is genuinely dropped sixty-seven times from the cliff that holds a golden Badge in its dusty ground."
