You ever count the stars? I can't ever get the same number, they keep changin' on me.
I don't even know what a star is, exactly...
Well, your body knows, it's your mind that forgot.
You ever count the stars? I can't ever get the same number, they keep changin' on me.
I don't even know what a star is, exactly...
Well, your body knows, it's your mind that forgot.
Go away.
Used to be nobody could sneak up on Jesse James.
Now you think otherwise?
I ain't never seen you without your guns, neither.
Can't figure it out: do you want to be like me or do you want to BE me?
I'm just making fun is all.
You know I'm real comfortable with your brother. Hell, he's ugly as sin and he smells like a skunk and he's so ignorant he couldn't drive nails in the snow, but he's sort of easy to be around. I can't say the same for you, Bob.
I'm sorry to hear you say that.
You know how it is when you're with your girlfriend and the moon is out and you know she wants to be kissed even though she never said so?
Yeah.
You're giving me signs that grieve my soul and make me wonder if maybe your mind's been changed about me.
What do you want me to do? Swear my good faith on the Bible?
You know what John Newman Edwards once wrote about me? He said I didn't trust two men in ten thousand and was even cautious around them. The government's sort of run me ragged. I'm going the long way around the barn to say I've been feeling cornered and just plain ornery of late and I'd be pleased if you'd accept the gun as my way of apologizing.
Heaven knows I'd be ornerier if I were in your position.
No. I haven't been acting correctly. I can't hardly recognize myself sometimes when I'm greased. I go on journeys out of my body and look at my red hands and my mean face and I wonder about that man who's gone so wrong. I've been becoming a problem to myself.