# # # BILLY THE KID # by Chris LeDoux # Am G In the southern part of Texas, east and west of El Paso Am Where the mighty Franklin Mountains guard the trail to Mexico. G There’s a new made widow cryin’ and a hurse a-rollin’ slow, Em Am And I guess that Devil’s passed this way again. Am G There’s a lathered sorrel stallion runnin’ through the Joshua Trees, Am A young man in the saddle with his coat tails in the breeze. G Got a six gun on his right hip and a rifle at his knee, Em Am And he’s dealin’ in a game that he can’t win. CHORUS Am G Poor Billy Bonney, you’re only twenty-one, Am Pat Garrett’s got your name on every bullet in his gun. G Each notch you carved on your six-gun’s got a bloody tale to tell Em Am Well, you’re a mile ahead of Garrett and a step outside of hell. Am G Them fancy clothes you’re wearin’ and the women in your bed, Am Can’t take away the faces of the men that you left dead. G As you ride across the badlands with a price upon your head, Em Am Now that wheel or fortune starts to turn. Am G Your reputation’s grown till it’s the biggest in the land, Am And there ain’t a lot of people left who wanna call your hand. G And I guess you’ll go down shootin’ just like all brand of men, Em Am And when you shake hands with the Devil you get burned. CHORUS x 2