GHOSTS AND GUNS

Everybody wants a piece of the action son
Everybody wants a piece of the flash and the fun
Everybody wants to see you do well my son
Everybody wants to see you burn in hell my son
You ain’t getting slower, but you get older
Your eyes get weaker, your aim gets lower
There’s always gonna be a younger man wanting to take your place
Throw down, throw down your guns my son
There ain’t a living man left in the game my son
They’re all gone, shot down my son
Put out to pasture by a final round my son
They weren’t getting slower but they got older
Their eyes got weaker, their aim got lower
There was a younger man wanting to take their place
Rest in peace, rest in peace my son
You gave it one last good go and now you’re all done my son
May the good lord have mercy on your soul my son
You’ll be joining me soon, I know my son
I never got slower, but I got older
My eye’s got weaker, my aim got lower
You were the younger man wanting to take my place
You were the younger man wanting to take my place