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There's guns across the river about to pound you |
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There's a lawman on your trail like to surround you |
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Bounty hunters are dancing all around you |
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Billy, they don't like you to be so free |
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Camping out all night on the veranda |
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Walking in the streets down by the hacienda |
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Up to boot hill they'd like to send you |
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Billy, don't you turn your back on me |
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There's mills inside the minds of crazy faces |
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Bullet holes and rifles in their cases |
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There's always one more notch in four more aces |
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Billy, and you're playing all alone |
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Playing around with some sweet senorita |
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Into her dark chamber she will greet you |
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In the shadows of the mesa she will lead you |
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Billy, and you're going all alone |
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They say that Pat Garrett's got your number |
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So sleep with one eye open, when you wonder |
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If every little sound just might be thunder |
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Thunder from the barrel of his gun |
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There's always another stranger sneaking glances |
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Some trigger-happy fool willing to take chances |
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Some old whore from San Pedro to make advances |
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Advances on your spirit and your soul |
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The businessmen from Taos want you to go down |
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So they've hired mister Garrett, to force you to slow down |
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Billy, don't it make you feel so low down? |
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To be hunted by the man who was your friend |
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So hang onto your woman, if you got one |
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Remember in El Paso once you shot one |
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I'll be in Santa Fe about one |
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Billy, you've been running for so long |
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Gypsy queens will play your grand finale |
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Way down in some Tularosa alley |
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Maybe in La Rio Pecas Valley |
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Billy, you're so far away from home |
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Billy, you're so far away from home |
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Billy, you're so far away from home |
