Post by wildfire on Jun 19, 2005 1:57:01 GMT -5
When the bandit, Chico Cana, crossed the river, at Boquillas.
Stole the young bride of the rancher Juan Otero.
Juan caught up his fastest mare, and north to Marathon he rode,
to hire himself, a gringo pistolero.
Spread the word along the river, tell it through the borderland,
that the Hound of Death is howling, after Chico Cana’s band,
Juan will seal their fate as surely as the rising of the sun.
With the guns, of the gringo pistolero.
The round hat of a trooper, cast a shadow ‘crost his eyes,
as he listened to the tale of Juan Otero,
at the name of Chico Cana, there could be no talk of price,
just the Gringo’s vow of vengeance, “Yo arrero”.
Oil the big Colt automatics, and with the daylight, he was gone,
With the coming cold, and darkness, he rode into Castollon.
And a drunken bandit, caught there read the message,
“Talk or Die!”
In the eyes of the Gringo Pistolero.
Where the Canyon Colorado, twists its way among the rocks,
And the ribbon of the sky is long and narrow,
In a jacal of adobe, bruised and tied up on the floor,
wept the young wife of the rancher Juan Otero.
Bandit mirrors on the cliff-tops, flash the message now
“He comes”
Ask the number of his followers, the number of their guns.
And the aviso flashed to Chico, like the fallin’ of a stone,
“He comes alone, the Gringo Pistolero.”
Hidden high above the canyon where the falcon rides the wind,
Chico’s best hawk-eyed aviso, Juan Romero,
put his mirror in his shirt and gazed with worry toward the rocks.
Where he last had seen the Gringo Pistolero.
“Put the sights up to 800; hold a yard left, for the wind,
And there’s one, By God, aviso that will NEVER flash again!”
Weeping red tears, from a third eye, that the guilty cannot feel,
From the Springfield of the Gringo Pistolero.
“Chico Cana, you have stole your last damn U.S. dollar bill!
I have come for you and all your companeros,
You can fight and do your damnedest, or just send the lady out!”
Came the challenge of the Gringo Pistolero.
Bandit rifles down the canyon, to the left and to the right,
Fearful eyes that watched and waited ‘til the falling of the night.
Angry cut-throats, that ignored the weeping lady on the floor,
And through the back door, came the Gringo Pistolero!
Big Colt autos spitting Thunder-Death at everything that moved!
Flashing lightning in the jacal, long and narrow.
Ending hate, and greed and cruelty, with final flying truth,
from the sure hand of the Gringo Pistolero!
When one hot and smoking pistol dropped down empty in the dirt,
then another sprang like magic, from inside the gringo’s shirt.
And the lead-storm never stopped, ‘til there was no one left unhurt,
But the lady and the Gringo Pistolero.
Word has spread to Ojinaga, where the Conchos tumbles down,
and a man’s death can come swifter than an arrow,
That although the law be empty words, still justice can be found,
For no border stops the Gringo Pistolero!
And the old wives tell how Juan’s wife came back,
beautiful and fair,
And lived happily through children, and the years of silver hair.
But, the young girls say Otero did not treat her well, back there
...ha..ha..ha..ha!
So she left him for the Gringo Pistolero!
Stole the young bride of the rancher Juan Otero.
Juan caught up his fastest mare, and north to Marathon he rode,
to hire himself, a gringo pistolero.
Spread the word along the river, tell it through the borderland,
that the Hound of Death is howling, after Chico Cana’s band,
Juan will seal their fate as surely as the rising of the sun.
With the guns, of the gringo pistolero.
The round hat of a trooper, cast a shadow ‘crost his eyes,
as he listened to the tale of Juan Otero,
at the name of Chico Cana, there could be no talk of price,
just the Gringo’s vow of vengeance, “Yo arrero”.
Oil the big Colt automatics, and with the daylight, he was gone,
With the coming cold, and darkness, he rode into Castollon.
And a drunken bandit, caught there read the message,
“Talk or Die!”
In the eyes of the Gringo Pistolero.
Where the Canyon Colorado, twists its way among the rocks,
And the ribbon of the sky is long and narrow,
In a jacal of adobe, bruised and tied up on the floor,
wept the young wife of the rancher Juan Otero.
Bandit mirrors on the cliff-tops, flash the message now
“He comes”
Ask the number of his followers, the number of their guns.
And the aviso flashed to Chico, like the fallin’ of a stone,
“He comes alone, the Gringo Pistolero.”
Hidden high above the canyon where the falcon rides the wind,
Chico’s best hawk-eyed aviso, Juan Romero,
put his mirror in his shirt and gazed with worry toward the rocks.
Where he last had seen the Gringo Pistolero.
“Put the sights up to 800; hold a yard left, for the wind,
And there’s one, By God, aviso that will NEVER flash again!”
Weeping red tears, from a third eye, that the guilty cannot feel,
From the Springfield of the Gringo Pistolero.
“Chico Cana, you have stole your last damn U.S. dollar bill!
I have come for you and all your companeros,
You can fight and do your damnedest, or just send the lady out!”
Came the challenge of the Gringo Pistolero.
Bandit rifles down the canyon, to the left and to the right,
Fearful eyes that watched and waited ‘til the falling of the night.
Angry cut-throats, that ignored the weeping lady on the floor,
And through the back door, came the Gringo Pistolero!
Big Colt autos spitting Thunder-Death at everything that moved!
Flashing lightning in the jacal, long and narrow.
Ending hate, and greed and cruelty, with final flying truth,
from the sure hand of the Gringo Pistolero!
When one hot and smoking pistol dropped down empty in the dirt,
then another sprang like magic, from inside the gringo’s shirt.
And the lead-storm never stopped, ‘til there was no one left unhurt,
But the lady and the Gringo Pistolero.
Word has spread to Ojinaga, where the Conchos tumbles down,
and a man’s death can come swifter than an arrow,
That although the law be empty words, still justice can be found,
For no border stops the Gringo Pistolero!
And the old wives tell how Juan’s wife came back,
beautiful and fair,
And lived happily through children, and the years of silver hair.
But, the young girls say Otero did not treat her well, back there
...ha..ha..ha..ha!
So she left him for the Gringo Pistolero!
