<D:A:D> page <The Early Years (CD 1): Call Of The Wild> album page |
Son of A GunHe laid face downIn the desert sand Clutching a sixgun In his hand And me and Maria went to watch him die Suddenly the raised and said Help me now, or I shoot you dead I got an arrow in my back And it aches as hell So we jumped on down in the yellow sand Started helping this gunfighting man He was sixfeet tall'n'four feet wide And the wagon tipped from side to side Driving into the red, red sun Poor mule he could hardly run I turned my head to Mary And she turned her head to mine And we knew What he was going to do He was going to shoo-ooh His whole way through And his name was on the pistol And he was son of a gun As we went driving into town We saw these posters all around There was a big reward upon his head 'Cause the Marshall wanted to see him dead As we talked about this gunfighting man We saw the steel in his hand Now folks I want to see you run To the rhythm of my gun And we knew What he was going to do He was going to shoo-ooh His whole way through And his name was on the pistol And he was son of a gun Well, I was saved and I was glad Thanks to my old Stetson hat It went through the top Only leaving a spot It was fabricated by an Indian bud Who did not now that he was hot Hanging on the posters everywhere Well, I took one step back And tipped my hat And looked him in his eyes Oh shit, he was telling me the dirtiest lies I had no time to get away I was trapped in the USA C'mon Mary, let's get out of his war And we knew What he was going to do He was going to shoo-ooh His whole way through And his name was on the pistol... And we knew What he was going to do He was going to shoo-ooh His whole way through And his name was on the pistol And he was son of a gun |