A Western Wet Dream - Lead Sheet, Page 2 of 5: So, I tip-toed the stair of that old hotel, found her with her fingers between her thighs. I said, ''How do you do?'' She said, ''I usually think of you, but my trigger finger's just the wrong size.'' We rode all night until we could not ride no more. She said, ''You've been gone so long that now I'm feelin' sorta saddle sore.'' So we rolled up our old bedroll and some Acapulco loco cigarettes. Then I stashed the loot in my rifle boot. And we...


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