The Last Roundup by Dave Deal I was born in jeopardy The odds were stacked against me My parents died when I was three Got passed around by family I never had close friends in school And I learned young, to bend the rules Before I put my plan in play I always plan my get away All roads lead to the same place In every town, they know my face Watch as my hand moves in a blur And never clearing their holster Not getting any younger Younger men have �the hunger� You blink your eye, the gig is up You�re heading for the last roundup Author: Dave Deal Email: [email protected]