Dropping off

Up on the screen, the shootout raged, the good guys fighting bad,
And in the aisle the usher prowled 'cause something made him mad,
He'd heard an awful ruckus, a howling in the black,
He found a cowboy sprawled across three seats 'bout halfway back.

His flashlight told the story, the cowpoke's eyes were closed,
He's sawing logs, the usher thought, this feller's in repose!
"Sir," the usher scolded him, "You've got to sit up straight,
"You can't take a nap here!  Heck, it ain't even late."

The cowboy just ignored him, so the usher beat retreat,
His boss would boot that galoot right out into the street,
But the manager bent low and said, "Sir what is your name?"
"Curly," the cowboy whispered, "I'll lie here if it's all the same."

The boss was fit to holler, but he helt his temper tight,
The house was mostly empty, it being Monday night,
"Mebby you don't git it, sir.  Them seats you're in ain't beds.
"Where you from?" the boss inquired.  

"The balcony," ol' Curly said.