Listen to The Last Gunfighter Ballad song with lyrics from Guy Clark

The Last Gunfighter Ballad

Guy Clark9 Mar 1997

The Last Gunfighter Ballad Lyrics

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

 

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