Born, the son of a nomad, mumma never wanted me, I lived in an orphanage, 'till i was 17. Then I joined the military, they sent me to the wars, by the time that i was 25 I'd survived 7 tours. I still wake up at night to screams though its been so many years, the terrible things I've seen and done the ringing in my ears. I left when i was 26 but could not hold a job. So i earned my living out of death as a hitman for the mob. But one day I took a contract, it was to kill some whore. When they told me I had killed my mum I swore I'd kill no more. So I left the life of a murderer, I was 29 years old, I became a journeyman, a drifter on the road. As I lay by my camp fire, I count out my scars, one for everyman I've killed on my face one for my ma! I lived that way for many years never knowing any home, I walked the world on tired feet hungry and alone. One day i came across a town its name i can't recall, I was searching for some food when the snow began to fall. I took shelter in an alley way and slept amongst the trash, I was woken up by men with guns they said 'give me all your cash.' I told them that i had none a hit then I did feel. The last thing I remember was my hand on something steel. When I finally came round the 2 men they were dead, savagely beaten, lifeless eyes I'd torn out from the head. I was picking up the gun when then I heard a sream, a woman had seen what I'd done it was time for me to leave. As I lay by my campfire, I count out my scars, I think of the things that I have done and play on my guitar. I still remember that night well I was 41. But now the lawmen hunted me I was on the run. I fled to the forrests dark and deep, and lived amoungst the trees, I climbed the mountains high and steep to the bones there I did freeze. How the time has flown by I'm now 43, I was fishing on this lonely beach when the lawmen cornered me. The lawmen here I count at 10, but bullets I have 5, I raise the gun and open fire, 'you'll never take me alive.' I see a flash, I feel the pain of bullets ripping me. I fall down to the wet sand and watch my blood flow to the sea. I feel my life sliping away a lonely death for me, I die the way that I have lived hungry, cold and free.