Ringo: A Gunslinger's Tale

He lay face down on the desert sand,
Clutching a six-gun in his hand.
Shot from behind, I thought he was dead,
For under his heart was an ounce of lead.
But a spark still burned so I used my knife,
And late that night I saved the life of Ringo.

I nursed him 'till the danger passed,
The days went by, he mended fast.
And then from dawn 'till setting sun,
He practiced with that deadly gun.
And hour by hour I watched in awe,
No human being could match the draw of Ringo.

One day we rode the mountain crest,
And I went east, and he went west.
I took to law and wore a star,
While he spread terror near and far.
With lead and blood he gained such fame,
All through the west they feared the name of Ringo.

I knew some day I'd face the test,
Which one of us would be the best.
And sure enough, the word came down,
That he was holed up in the town.
I left the posse out in the street,
And I went in alone to meet Ringo

They said my speed was next to none,
But my lightning draw had just begun.
When I heard a blast that stung my wrist,
The gun went flying from my fist.
And I was looking down the bore,
Of the deadly .44 of Ringo.

They say that was the only time,
That anyone had seen him smile.
He slowly lowered his gun and then,
He said to me," We're even friend."
And so at last I understood,
That there was still a spark of good in Ringo.

I blocked the path of his retreat,
He turned and stepped into the street.
A dozen guns spit fire and lead,
A moment later he lay dead.
The town began to shout and cheer,
Nowhere was there shed a tear for Ringo.

The story spread throughout the land,
That I had beaten Ringo's hand.
And it was just the years they say,
That made me put my guns away.
But on his grave they can't explain,
The tarnished star above the name of Ringo.

I have memorized this and plan to recite it at campfire.