Revolver (Or Gravedigger Blues)

I make a living putting people in the dirt
Good people, bad, all the kinds that walk the earth
Yes I do, it don't matter what they're worth
He was born, he paid, he died, of these three things I'm sure

Some get a bullet, some a cinching rope
Some lose fights with their own brains, others just lose hope
But no matter what you've done or been or seen
I don't discriminate, I turn away no folk
Cuz we are all the same under the grass, inside the pine, below the stone

Well I'm an enterprising man, that no one can doubt
But I've been known to rush a soul or two on the way out
Lord, lord, lord, how the thankless scream and shout
But as far as I'm concerned, you know I'm just helping a stranger out