This here was our situation We was just young wildwood boys New as the birth of the nation The kind that the Army employs Night riding Rebs from Missouri Fought for the Grey and Quantrell Caught up by the battle and the fury Back when just living was hell
After the battle was over And after the Union had won It was quitting that made us the loser So we kept doing just what we'd done Riding as comrads together We looted the trains and the banks Removing that carpetbag money And sticking it hard to the Yanks
Death always follows behind you When you ride down that old outlaw trail Someday a bullet will find you Or you'll rot like a corpse in some jail Turning your back to the danger Is a wager no man can afford 'Cause gold turns a friend to a stranger Like old Judas turned on our Lord
Men are revered and remembered While they lay in that coffin and rot Some live in the legends of history Most are forever forgot The victory it goes to the strongest And only the strong will survive Survival is living the longest But nobody gets out alive
The questions don't never get answered And the rights, they're remembered all wrong The facts, they can get plenty confusing So someday if you happen to be singing this song Remember it's just for the record You can't change the handwork of fate And tell 'em I lived for the moment And I died when I tried to go straight Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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