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LAST GUNFIGHTER BALLAD, THE (Guy Clark) Guy Clark (with Waylon Jennings) - 1976 Johnny Cash - 1976 Also recorded by: Steve Earle As recorded by GUY CLARK: Now the old gunfigter on the porch stared into the sun And relived the days of livin' by the gun When deadly games of pride were played And livin' 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 I smelt the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke And you can almost feel the weight of the gun And it's always keep your back to the sun And it's faster than snakes or a blink of the eye And it's a time for all slow men to die And his eyes get squinty and his fingers twitch And he empties his 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 And the burn of a bullet is only a scar And he's back in his chair in front of a bar And the streets are empty and the blood's all dried And the dead are dust and and the whiskey's inside So buy him a drink, 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 I did it all for the money and fame Noble was nothin' but feelin' no shame And nothin' was sacred save 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 who no one believes Says he's a gunfighter, the last of the breed And there're ghosts in the street seekin' revenge Callin' him out to the lunatic fringe Now he's out in the traffic, checkin' 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 ******************** As recorded by JOHNNY CASH: The old gunfigter stood on the porch stared into sun And relived all the old days back livin' by the gun When deadly games of pride were played And livin' was mistakes not made And he thought of the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke The thought of the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke And it's always keep your back to the sun And you can almost feel the weight of that gun It's faster than snakes or the blink of an eye And it's a time for all slow men to die His eyes get squinty and his fingers are long As he empties his gun at the dirty dog 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 And he's back in his chair in front of a bar And the streets're empty and the blood's all dried The dead are dust and and the whiskey's inside So buy him a drink and lend him an ear He's nobody's fool, but he's 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 Remembers the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke Said I stood in that street before it was paved I learned the shoot or be shot before I could shave And I did it all for the money and the fame Noble was nothin' but feelin' no shame And nothin' was sacred but stayin' alive And all that I learned from a Colt 45 Was to cuss the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke Cuss 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 nobody believes Says he's a gunfighter, the last of his breed And there's ghosts in the street seekin' revenge Callin' him out to the lunatic fringe He's out in the traffic now, checkin' 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 (Transcribed by Mel Priddle - July 2012)

    


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