The Last Gunfighter Ballad (Clark Guy)

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 It's always keep your back to the sun And he can almost feel the weight of the gun 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