Galloping roundabout down the mountain,
Bareback on that stallion you would give
No name because to name something is to
Own it and you never believed in possessions;
But lover, listen, once you called me your
Sun and moon and the ripples in your river.
You gave me many names and when you
Left you couldnt just take them away.
You were more cut-throat than Id imagined;
But listen, gunslinger, I'm not dead yet.