Tale of Guacamole Mitchell

A funny name given to me by my great Comrade, Jenna.

On a twisting winter night

Mitchell rode his horse into town

He greeted the teller, banker, fellow rider

He made his way into the town bar

Ready to drink an' leave behind

The art of killin' for a day

He reached the bartender 

"Give me your best head-warmer"

"Something to get me over what's been done"

"Alright," said Mick

An' out the best serving of Guantic

An' Mit' drank it all right down

His back, solders, mind was weighing a pound

Nothin' seemed to wash it all away

All there was was still much regret 

Mayhaps he was stuck with how 

He'd taken charge at Wounded Elbow

An' his name they did say

Sounded only of blood

Guacamole Mitchell tried to change 

But nothing was being gained

So Guacamole Mit' just gave up 

An there he sat

Alone and dyin'

His hand full of some Guantic