Son Of A Gun Testo

He laid face downIn the desert sandClutching a sixgunIn his handAnd me & Maria went to watch him die.Suddenly the raised and said:Help me now, or I shoot you dead!.- I got an arrow in my backAnd it aches as hell!!So we jumped on down in the yellow sandStarted helping this gunfighting manHe was sixfeet tall'n'four feet wideAnd the wagon tipped from side to sideDriving into the red, red sunPoor mule he could hardly runI turned my head to MariaAnd she turned her head to mine:And we knew...What he was going to doHe was going to shoo-oo-oyHis whole way throughAnd his name was on the pistol- And he was son of a gun!!As we went driving into townWe saw these posters all aroundThere was a big reward upon his head- Coz' the marshall wanted to seehim dead...As we talked about this gunfighting manWe saw the steel in his hand:Now folks I want to see you run!To the rythm of my gun!!And we knew...Well I was saved & I was gladThanks to my old stetson hat®It went through the topOnly leaving a spotIt was fabricated by an indian budWho did not now that he was hotHanging on the posters everywhere...So I took one step backAnd tipped my hatAnd looked him in his eyesAom shit he was telling me theDirtiest liesI had no time to get awayI was trapped in the USAC'mon Maria, let's get out of his war...And we knew...)(#$/#%&#?#%/!#%#/(/%?#/#(/%#!#%/)#/%!#(/!#%/And we knew...Dow! Flam bam! Pow! Bow!