Yesterday a fella tried to kill me. While it was happenin' there was a moment, maybe a second when I thought to myself, "Don't fight it. Let this all be over with forever." But I didn't or couldn't. Maybe next time someone wraps their fingers around my neck I'll just smile.
Standin' out front of The Cricket I see a lot of ladies comin' and goin' from saloons 'cross the street. I don't understand it. Every saloon I have been in has stunk of whiskey, sweat, cigarettes, and the vile contents of spittons. I gag every time I set foot in The Cricket. Don't make sense to me at all that any woman would want to spend time in a saloon. Most ah these miners bathe once a month, the stench off them makes my eyes water. They gotta wash up 'fore they go in back with me, but they could do a better job of it.
I was thinkin' 'bout how long I been doin' this and how it's already makin' me feel like I'm as old as Zeke. My back hurts, my lady parts ache all the time. Some nights my jaw hurts so bad I cain't chew food, and it feels like there ain't enough whiskey to make the pain go away. I keep smilin' though. Smilin' and moanin' and actin' like I am havin' the time of my life. Only way to git paid is to act like it's fun.
I paid the undertaker for a coffin today. Lord knows ain't no one gonna care when I die. Lola be dead 'fore me with the way she drinks. This way the undertaker will at least feel a obligated to git me buried proper. I should tell 'im my real name so he can put it on the marker. Don't want this whore name followin' me when I'm dead.