Mounties Against Drunk Equestrianism

Hank pushed through the swinging doors and stared slowly across the sky. He said goodbye to another saloon, in a cold Manitoba town, under another tequila sunrise. Hank was a hired hand, working on the dreams he planned to try.

Drinking made the days go by a whole lot easier. Still his thoughts cut like a knife. _Every night, when the sun goes down_, (Hank felt like just another lonely boy in town) _and she's out runnin' 'round... She wasn't just another woman and I couldn't keep from comin' on. It's been so long. Oh, and it's a hollow feelin' when it comes down to dealin' friends. It never ends._

After a long night of drinking, Hank would take another 'shot of courage' and wonder why the right words never come. "You just get numb," he told the bartender. "It's another tequila sunrise, this old world still looks the same, another frame, mm..."

Staggering to his feet, he pushed through a pair of swinging doors; haplessly, he untied and mounted his horse, and promptly, he fell head first into a water trough.