We were drinkin’ in the living room,

Gin-drunk spinnin’ – place felt like a tomb.

She was supposed to get married,

But her mind got carried

Away by the fleein’ groom.

 

Half an hour waiting – we thought we were done –

Then she asked “Boys, where’s the shotgun?”

We slurred “Baby, don’t ya’ do it,

Darlin’, you’ll a’rue it” –

She replied “Girls just wanna’ have fun.”

 

So she hiked up her weddin’ dress

– Her legs bled unhappiness –

She climbed each and every stair

Sreamin’ “Goddamn, I don’t care,

I’m gonna’ make a fuckin’ mess!”

 

We all jumped up – well, we stumbled –

And I’m sure that we all mumbled:

“Get a grip on your head!”

“Ya’ don’t want him dead!”

As after her we up’n’tumbled.

 

Top of the stairs – she was in the Master,

Even in high heels, the gal ran faster.

She found the gun box,

Bare hands – Ripped off the locks,

And armed herself like a pastor.

 

And though we wanted to intervene,

Her eyes were flamin’ a burnin’ green.

She looked damn venomous

– Or maybe just envious –

Most terrifyin’ thing we’d ever seen.

 

She barged right on past us with rage,

Hoped in the truck – didn’t even check the gauge –

Hollered “Someone take the wheel!”

And we were bound to the ordeal,

It was too late to disengage.

 

So I hopped into the driver seat,

And I could hear her throbin’ heartbeat,

Poundin’ with fury,

She was pantin’ “You’d best hurry!”

And I stomped the gas pedal with my feet.

 

We barreled down frontage road thirty-three,

Rest of the clan starin’ forward at me,

 

Didn’t want to be part of the murder,

But the boy had hurt her,

Revenge is part of bein’ a Western family.

 

We were three miles outside of town –

When sis – still in her weddin’ gown –

Saw her husband-would’ve been,

Her face grew a grievous grin,

That said “We ‘bout to run this bastard down.”

 

She perched the blaster right ‘bove her hip,

Blew a kiss from her bottom lip,

Didn’t even peer down the sight

– Just shot through the night –

And we saw the tuxedo boy take a trip.

 

He fell flat on his well-dressed chest,

Sis said “I’ll take care of the rest”

Opened the door, over joyed,

And like Pretty Boy Floyd

She brought murder back to the West.

 

A truly savage bit of blood-shedding.

Damn near brutal as a French beheading,

But she strolled back to the truck

And sighed “Well fuck,

Now that’s what I call a shotgun wedding.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s