The Last Gunfighter Ballad-Guy Clark

歌手 : Guy Clark

专辑 : Live From Austin TX

语种 : 英语

时长 : 02:56

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TXT The Last Gunfighter Ballad-Guy Clark 文本歌词

The Last Gunfighter Ballad - Guy Clark

The old gunfighter on the porch

Stared into the sun

And relived the days of living

By the gun

When deadly games of pride

Were played

And living was mistakes not made

And the thought of the smell of

The black powder smoke

And the stand in the street

At the turn of a joke

Ah the smell of the black

Powder smoke

And the stand in the street

At the turn of a joke

And he can almost feel

The weight of the gun

It's always keep your

Back to the sun

It's faster than snakes

Or the blink of an eye

And it's a time for

All slow men to die

And his eyes get squinty

And his fingers twitch

And he empties the gun

At the son of a bitch

And he's hit by the smell of

The black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at

The turn of a joke

Hit by the smell of the

Black powder smoke

And the stand in the street

At the turn of a joke

Now the burn of a bullet

Is only a scar

He's back in his chair

In front of the bar

And the streets are empty

And the blood's all dried

And the dead are dust

And the whiskey's inside

So buy him a drink

And lend him an ear

He's nobody's fool

And the only one here

Who remembers the smell of

The black powder smoke

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

He said I stood in that street

Before it was paved

Learned shoot or be shot

Before I could shave

And I did it all for the

Money and fame

Noble was nothing

But feeling no shame

And nothing was sacred

But stayin' alive

And all that I learned

From a Colt 45

Was to curse the smell of

The black powder smoke

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

Now he's just an old man

That no one believes

Says he's a gunfighter

The last of the breed

And there are ghosts

In the street seeking revenge

Calling him out to the

Lunatic fringe

Now he's out in the

Traffic checking the sun

And he's killed by a car

As he goes for his gun

So much for the smell of the

Black powder smoke

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