Webb Wilder - Scattergun lyrics

Scattergun Standing tall, he doesn't flinch, he knows what must be done But his eyes are weak, his aim is bad, his feet too big to run If he wants to live to know his lover's kiss He can't afford to miss In the blinding glare of the burning desert sun There's not much a man can do outnumbered six to one Unless he is the man they call Scattergun Scattergun You don't have to be a good shot With a scattergun (Scattergun) A man who knows his bottle like his woman knows his touch Who keeps to his own business as he tinkers in his hutch But if some pack of devils act a fool Make him lose his cool They'll think a dragon has them in its clutches His scattergun will fill the air with smoke and fire and such And if you look to see what's left, you won't see much Scattergun You don't have to be a good shot With a scattergun (Scattergun)