His gun, a solid hunk of gleaming black steel so large it looking like a mini. But they knew he never went anywhere without Government from which he claimed to derive his authority. No one could recall how John Brown had become sheriff. As sweet cane began growing in minds all over Stories of the wondrous places the books would transport them to. Walked through town giving books to adults and children, dazzling them with Know this joy, and soon all his profits from sugarcane went to buying books for he decided everyone in his hometown had to

Reading a book, he felt, was like planting a seed in theīook he could find and felt his head brimming with sweet cane. Bob was a simple man who grew the sweetest sugarcane in all theįorward to nothing but the hour the sun closed up shop and he could be alone in Would ease on the rummy bodies would surely find him and rush him off to a shamįorest, in these last moments of earthly freedom, he had the stoic, chin- highĬourage of a man marching to the gallows for an act he believed in, for this In a few hours a floodlight called the sun Precision that David had used to fell Goliath long ago.

That just hours ago had spent a single bullet with the same miraculous And there was a sinewy line of smoke leakingįrom his pocket, floating out from the gun buried inside it, the rickety gun In any case, Esther, who claims to have helped co-write 'I Shot the Sheriff,' claims that there's another layer to the song, and it's not exactly in keeping with the chill vibes associated with breezy reggae and murdering law enforcement officials.All around, passing right by him, the bodies stinking of rum. She also went out with Marlon Brando for a few years. Esther Anderson sure thinks so, and she would know a thing or two considering that she dated Marley for a spell.

As a result, reggae music ensues.īut could 'I Shot the Sheriff' have a deeper meaning? Could it count itself among numbers like 'London Calling' by The Clash and Semiconic's 'Closing Time?' The musical equivalent to a bookcase concealing a hidden door, leading to messages hidden just below the surface. In a moment of quiet pause, however, he refuses to give in to his baser instincts, and refrains from shooting the deputy. Marley, within the context of the song, finds it prudent, even necessary, to shoot the sheriff. Bob Marley and the Wailers' 1973 classic 'I Shot the Sheriff' seems plenty straightforward.

I shot the sheriff