I'll tell you a story, it's one of the best, the time is old and the place is the best. You know it well, it's often told about cattle cowboys guns and guns. Walking down the dusty streets of town we see an old stranger hanging around. Got a badge on his chest and a scornous jaw, so guess this strangers are new. He buckles his guns up around his waist and he says I'm going to clean up this place, spurs the gleam in the light of the afternoon. He struts into the town slowly. Well, the undertaker's busy for a couple of days and there's bills in that bar that'll never get paid. That sheriff's feeling on top of the road as he hugs his favorite dance-hog. In a western town that couldn't last one day a ranch hand rode in the fast. St. Hurrie Up Sheriff, we got to come quick, we got rustlers over, it'll bill clicks. This quick is a smile and mean is a friend that long man galloped out of the town. We got to the ranch, he drew his gun and laid all them outlaws low. In a town next day they rode a man, the leader of that outlaw band, slid off his horse and he said with a shout, load your gun sheriff I'm calling you loud. The man in the man and I, I both ready to kill and both ready to die. The clock struck one. Like a funeral now, too far at first there's none can tell. you