The Crimson Rider Gallows Frontier Act I
Death! And no escape
See, the Crimson Rider - alone in the silver screen expanse
A teeming bedlam of dust and thunder follows in his wake
With all the resolve of hell burning in his eyes, the bastard hero traverses the plains
Saddled with avarice and cruelty he rides - the key to a nation fixed to his belt

A hero? A man. A mouthful of blood
Perennial, a loaded gun

A law of the land cares not for lawless men
A skyline of gravestones stands tall come the dawn

The frontier eternal, beholden to none
The rider who would deal death, has drafted his own

The sun drawing nearer, The rider pushed on
In a fervor of gold, the outlaw becomes a God

See our hero, realize too late:
He was blind to the gallows, yet tied his own rope
As the platform falls from his feet, His last breath proclaims:
I am iron, I am death. I am the setting sun. I am the West
They’ll sing his song - of an era gone

Hero hero, to which sunset will you ride?
When the bleeding clouds leave no horizon?
The gallows, no road back?