The Row

Starting on a warm afternoon.

Five men in front of a room.

Some motorbikes (were) parked outside, disguised like to a rodeo show.

And the sun was shining by the window on their sweaty brow.

No noise coming out, Except the sound of the wind.

And a guy was waiting on a porch of a naughty house.

Dressed like a cowboy in a western of Howard Hawks.

With a rifle in a hand, a cigarette in the other, He's seemed to know that this would finish in a row.

A bang resounds in the street

And the boys came out in a hurry.