dobe bill he went a riding through the canyon in the glow of a quiet sunday morning from the town of angelo ridin easy on that pinto that he dearly loved to straddle with a six gun and sombrero that was wider than his saddle and he s hummin as he s goin of a simple little song that s a boomin through the cactus as he s gallopin along oh i ve rid from san antony through the mesquite and the sand i m a rarin flarin bucko not afraid to play my hand well i m a hootin shootin demon and to have my little fun on my pinto called apache and adolphus that s my gun well straight to santa fe he drifted and he mills around the town sorta gittin of his bearin s as he pours his liquor down but he s watchin always watchin every hombre in the place like he s mebbe sorta lookin for some certain hombre s face then one night he saunters careless to the place of monte sam and he does a bit of playin like he doesn t give a damn then all at once it s hushed and quiet like a calm before the blow and the crowd is tense and nervous and the playin stopped and slow at the bar a man is standin sneerin as his glances lay like a challenge did he fling em darin em to make the play two gun blake the texas killer hated feared wherever known stood and drank his glass of mescal with assurance all his own then the eyes of blake the killer met the glance of dobe bill and they held each one the other with the steel of looks that kill then the tones of blake came slowly with a sneer in every word well you ve found me but the other gave no sign he saw or heard walkin calmly toward the speaker he advanced with steady pace then he grinned and quick as lightnin slapped him squarely in the face shoot you snake he whispered hoarsely shoot you lily livered cur draw you re always strong for killin now i m here to shoot for her some there was that claimed they saw it as the killer tried to draw but there s no one knows for certain just exactly what he saw i ll agree the shootin started quick as blake had made his start then a brace of bullets hit him fair and certain through the heart as he fell his hand was graspin for the gun he d got too late with the notches on it showin like the vagaries of fate and the man who stood there lookin at the killer as he lay murmured nell i ve kept my promise i have made that scoundrel pay then dobe bill he went a ridin from the town of santa fe on a quiet sunday morning goin happy on his way ridin easy on that pinto that he dearly loved to straddle with a six gun and sombrero that was wider than his saddle and he s a hummin as he s goin of a simple little song that s a boomin through the cactus as he s gallopin along oh i m goin down the canyon through the mesquite and the sand i m a rarin flarin bucko not afraid to play my hand well i m a rootin shootin demon and i have my little fun on my pinto called apache a ha and adolphus that s my gun 
['american folk revival', 'appalachian folk', 'folk', 'old-time', 'traditional folk']