Disclaimer: Star Trek doesn't belong to me.
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Spectre of the Gun
One bright day when the sky was red
three men stood, they were head to head
with hats of black and with suits the same
and the dust blew hard with no sign of rain.
The men said, here, you have one last choice
speak up now, we can't hear your voice
but the Enterprise four were wrapped around
and they stood, heads high, on the dry, dry ground.
The men held their guns and began to shoot
and the bullets with noise flew fast and true
and the fence behind splintered with pockmarked holes
but the four stood there, unafraid and bold.
They didn't believe all of this was true
they didn't believe it as the bullets flew
they didn't believe as the volley slowed
they didn't believe it as they stood on the road.
The sky went away and the bullets too
and the men in the hats and the fancy suits
and the Enterprise crew lived again that day
and the wild, wild, west went far away.
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