The Man

He carved his name in the tree
of the new old town he found.
He made his bed beside the fire
on a real big ole' dirt mound.
He met a gal to call his own
and wished twas she he wed.
Her hair was gold and pretty
and that night they lay in bed.
Next morning while the sun was shinning
he heard what was a holler.
It seemed his gal had up and gone
and left on his head a high dollar.
She'd gone and lied to the town
and told the tale of rape.
Now he was to be hanged
and left to die in shape.
Oh as he hung up in that tree
he wished he was another.
And wished to god he wasn't drunk
and had touched some other.