The Road To Ophir

There's nowhere for some men to go, like a man with a forty-two year old back and one word carved into his forehead, one word that makes men lift their guns and say go. There's nowhere for that man to go but that tinpot boilerhouse where the trouble began, but he has to stop sometime, some place where there's heat and he can be easy. And he'll tell his story but he'll only tell it once, he can't help but change the details if he tells it twice.