In the quiet town of Spring Rock,
'neath the moon's pale light,
Stood a jailhouse old and lonely,
on a restless night.
Dapper Dan, a fisherman,
with a heart so grand,
Found himself behind those bars,
by a cruel hand.
Old Bitty's pie went missing,
from her window ledge,
She wagged her finger at the sheriff,
standing by the edge.
A little girl did hear her,
on her way to school,
By lunchtime, Dapper Dan
was branded as a fool.
Rumors spread like wildfire,
tales of woe and dread,
Each retelling darker,
filling hearts with lead.
From a pie thief to a villain,
the stories grew and grew,
In the vigilante state,
the truth was far and few.
The sheriff and his deputy,
they knew the man was true,
Held him in the jailhouse,
to protect him from the posse's view.
The townsfolk gathered torches,
with tools in hand they came,
Seeking out their justice,
in a fiery, angry flame.
Dapper Dan was fishing,
when he should've been at work,
Now he faced the wrath of townsfolk,
in the shadows they did lurk.
His fate hung in the balance,
as the night grew cold and dark,
The vigilant state of justice,
left its cruel and lasting mark.
Rumors spread like wildfire,
tales of woe and dread,
Each retelling darker,
filling hearts with lead.
From a pie thief to a villain,
the stories grew and grew,
In the vigilante state,
the truth was far and few.
So remember, dear listener,
as you hear this tale unfold,
The vigilant state is peace,
but the vigilante's heart is cold.
Dapper Dan's fate is hanging,
in the balance of the night,
In the shadows of Spring Rock,
where wrong is taken for right.
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