To the rich man's bright lodges. I ride in this wind. On my good horse I call you. My shiny black Bess. To the playhouse of fortune. To take the bright silver. And gold you have taken. From somebody else. And as we go riding. In the damp foggy midnight. You snort my good pony. And you give me your best. For you know and I know. Good horse 'mongst the rich ones. How oftimes we go there. An unwelcome guest. I never took food. From the widows and orphans. And never a hardworking man I oppressed. So take your pace easy. For home soon like lightning. We soon will be riding. My shiny black Bess. No fat rich man's pony. Can ever overtake you. And there's not a rider. From the east to the west. Could hold you a light. In this dark mist and midnight. When the potbellied thieves. Chase the unwelcome guest. I don't know good horse. As we trot in this dark here. That robbing the rich. Is for worse or for best. They take it by stealing. And lying and gambling. And I take it my way. My shiny Black Bess. I treat horses good. And I'm friendly to strangers. I ride and your running. Makes my guns talk the best. And the rangers and deputies. Are hired by the rich man. To catch me and hang me. My shining black Bess. Yes they'll catch me napping one day. And they'll kill me. And then I'll be gone. But that won't be my end. For my guns and my saddle. Will always be filled. By unwelcome travelers. And other brave men. And they'll take the money. And spread it out equal. Just like the Bible. And the prophets suggest. But men that go riding. To help these poor workers. The rich will cut down. Like an unwelcome guest