The old gunfighter on the porch
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stared into the sun
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and relived the days of living by the gun
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when deadly games of pride were played
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and living was mistakes not made
|
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and the thought of the smell of the black powder smoke
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and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
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Ah, the smell of the black powder smoke
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and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
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It's always keep your back to the sun
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and he can almost feel the weight of the gun
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it's faster than snakes or the blink of an eye
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and it's a time for all slow men to die
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and his eyes get squinty and his fingers twitch
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and he empties the gun at the son of a bitch
|
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and he's hit by the smell of the black powder smoke
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and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
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hit by the smell of the black powder smoke
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and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
|
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Now the burn of a bullet is only a scar
|
he's back in his chair in front of the bar
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and the streets are empty and the blood's all dried
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and the dead are dust and the whiskey's inside
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so buy him a drink and lend him an ear
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he's nobody's fool and the only one here
|
|
who remembers the smell of the black powder smoke
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and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
|
remember the smell of the black powder smoke
|
and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
|
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He said I stood in that street before it was paved
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learned shoot or be shot before I could shave
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and I did it all for the money and fame
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noble was nothing but feeling no shame
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and nothing was sacred but stayin' alive
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and all that I learned from a Colt 45
|
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was to curse the smell of the black powder smoke
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and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
|
curse the smell of the black powder smoke
|
and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
|
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Now he's just an old man that no one believes
|
says he's a gunfighter, the last of the breed
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and there are ghosts in the street seeking revenge
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calling him out to the lunatic fringe
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now he's out in the traffic checking the sun
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and he's killed by a car as he goes for his gun
|
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So much for the smell of the black powder smoke
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and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
|
so much for the smell of the black powder smoke
|
and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke
|
|
-----------------
|
The Last Gunfighter Ballad
|
| Guy Clark |
