They used to say there were only two ways
To get out of these border towns
You take to the hills for the bandit’s life
Or take up priestly vows.
And who’s to say which life was worse
And which was the softest bed
That was the choice, then as now
The choice still, silver or lead.
When my older brother left our home
To take up the priestly black
We knew he’d be a different man
If he ever were to come back.
Me, I chose the other path
I joined a bandit gang
No-one saw us coming
We hit them hard and ran
We robbed a bank, we sacked a store
Some died and some of us bled
But we made the choice, as we had before
The choice was silver or lead.
One hard winter when the snow lay deep
Our bellies empty and our bodies thin
We rode into town and up to the church
And made the choice to commit the sin.
The priest was standing at the altar
He held a bible in his hand
I knew him before I saw his face
And now I am forever damned.
They killed him as I stood and watched
They would not let me turn away
They took the chalice and the crucifix
And then they made me stay
So for ten years now I’ve given my time
I sweep the floor and prepare the wine
Lowly duties, just one more choice
And every night, I hear his voice
But I know he’s gone, and I’m here instead
For choices made, silver or lead
Silver or lead…
©February2010 Jeffrey James Culling