Big nothing
He stood in the road outside of town
With a broken clockwork toy in his hand
A graveyard for childish dreams in his palm
A broken lifeline

Big nothing

The mechanical amusement sputtered to life in his fist
As he clenched, it whirred and died again
It was a cowboy who drew his gun,
but the pistol was welded to the holster
by age and careless children,
So it struggled and strained
and it unwound its own spring

Big nothing

He didn't need tattoos to show where he'd been
And who he'd loved
It was the same thing that men had cried for