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(Am)In the southern part of Texas, east and (G)west of El Paso
Where the mighty Franklin Mountains guard the (Am)trail to Mexico.
Thereís a new made widow cryiní and a (G)hurse a-rolliní slow,
And I (Em)guess that Devilís passed this way a(Am)gain.
(Am)Thereís a lathered sorrel stallion runniní (G)through the Joshua Trees,
A young man in the saddle with his (Am)coat tails in the breeze.
Got a six gun on his right hip and a (G)rifle at his knee,
And heís (Em)dealiní in a game that he canít (Am)win.
(Am)Poor Billy Bonney, youíre (G)only twenty-one,
Pat Garrettís got your name on every (Am)bullet in his gun.
Each notch you carved on your six-gunís got a (G)bloody tale to tell
Well, youíre a mile ahead of Garrett and a (Em)step outside of (Am)hell.
(Am)Them fancy clothes youíre weariní and the (G)women in your bed,
Canít take away the faces of the (Am)men that you left dead.
As you ride across the badlands with a (G)price upon your head,
(Em)Now that wheel or fortune starts to (Am)turn.
(Am)Your reputationís grown till itís the (G)biggest in the land,
And there ainít a lot of people left who (Am)wanna call your hand.
And I guess youíll go down shootiní just (G)like all brand of men,
And when you (Em)shake hands with the Devil you get (Am)burned.
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