Born Mean Under a Blood Red Sky

Wind cuts cold, coyotes cry… A shadow moves where the dead men lie.

I came up hard with a fist for a name, Raised in the smoke of a one-horse flame. The preacher called me lost at birth, Said my soul was worth less than dirt.

Born mean under a blood red sky, Never asked no reason why. The earth don’t give, the earth don’t care, I was danger before I breathed the air.

Whiskey taught my tongue to burn, Every scar’s a lesson I had to learn. I don’t kneel, I don’t bend, I make my enemies my only friends.

Born mean under a blood red sky, Never prayed, just passed on by. The fire don’t heal, it only brands, I’m the shape of danger carved by hands.

Dust in my mouth, rage in my bones, I walk a road where the crow calls home. No law, no mercy, no holy plan, Just the making of a dangerous man.

Born mean under a blood red sky, Cursed to live, too proud to die. Don’t whisper hope, don’t preach my name — Danger’s all I ever became.

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