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The Undertaker's List
Clinton Moore
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FolkAmericanaOutlaw CountryWesternReflectiveDarkGrittyNarrativeHistorical
This is a gritty, narrative-driven outlaw country song. It's sung from the perspective of an old undertaker, who tells a young man that the "fastest draw" is a myth; the only thing that matters is the "ice in the veins" and the cold-blooded will to be the last one standing, name-dropping the real, deadly men of the West.
[Intro] (Slow acoustic guitar, E minor) (A lone harmonica wails) [Verse 1] The kid pushed back his dusty hat In the Tombstone saloon Said, "Old man, tell me who was fastest 'Neath that pale and bloody moon" I've heard of Hickok and his Buntline I've heard of Hardin's deadly spin I wanna be a legend, sir I just need to know, who wins? [Verse 2] I polished off a whiskey glass And I looked him in the eye I said, "Son, that list you're chasing Is a well-told, pretty lie. 'Cause I've buried boys who practiced Their hand a-flashin' in the sun They're just as dead as the man who fumbled And never even cleared his gun." [Chorus] "It ain't the speed of the hand that matters It's the ice that's in the veins It's the lead that's in the air And the blood that's in the rains It ain't about the fastest It's about who's cold and first 'Cause the quickest man I ever knew Was the one who died of thirst... for a fight." [Verse 3] John Wesley Hardin, he was poison He killed a man just for a snore Wild Bill died holding aces and eights Shot from behind, fallin' to the floor Doc Holliday was all nerve and consumption He was coughin' up his lungs But he'd stand by Earp at the O.K. Corral 'Til the final bloody song was sung [Chorus] "It ain't the speed of the hand that matters It's the ice that's in the veins It's the lead that's in the air And the blood that's in the rains It ain't about the fastest It's about who's cold and first 'Cause the quickest man I ever knew Was the one who died of thirst... for a fight." [Bridge] I'm the one who builds the pine box I'm the one who digs the hole That "fastest draw" you're looking for It just costs you your own soul There's no such thing as a "Top 7" There's just the living and the dead [Outro] The kid just stared into his glass Didn't say another word He paid his bill, he tipped his hat And he walked out of the saloon He didn't touch the iron on his hip (Slow acoustic guitar fades)
FolkAmericanaOutlaw CountryWesternReflectiveDarkGrittyNarrativeHistoricalDeep Male Baritone (storyteller)Acoustic guitarMournful harmonicaUpright bassSparse brush snareCrying steel guitarSunoGemini (Google)
Creator's Note: This work is an AI-assisted creation. It is not intended to replicate or infringe upon the work of any specific artist. The creator strives to produce original compositions or AI-assisted versions of their own personal songs, respecting all intellectual property rights.





























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