When the sheriff came to my motel door
He said, "I know who you are son, now get on the floor.
Hands behind your back, I'm taking you in.
In my county you don't get away with that shit."
So there I was with a big decision to make
And a bathroom window too small for escape
Do I lay it down, give it up, and concede
Or do I darken these chambers and make this hourly room the last thing I ever see?
Through the door I heard him say, "I'll give you til three.
Just do as I say and this'll go easy."
My nervous thumbs pulled back on the Colt 45
Then I shouted out "You'll never take me alive."
With a heavy sigh he said, "Have it your way.
Didn't take you for one to die a cliche."
As he counted down I steadied the gun
And at the moment the door kicked open the Final Rights were on the tip of my tongue
Death comes to Muscle Shoals
He didn't have far to go
In 20 years they'll call this poetry
I'll be labeled an outlaw wild and free
Just like John Dillinger I'll go down in history
And in all the text books your picture will be right next to me
Death comes to Muscle Shoals
He didn't have far to go
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