Dead eyes filled with purpose
Burning with an inner light
Born without a notion
Of what is wrong or right
Rotting through and through
That's what the decent folk would say
He'll put you six feet under
And then ride out all his way
Moving slow and steady
Confident and sure
Knowing every function
Of his trusty 44
His deeds became a legend
Bill Kelly was his name
And he had the reputation
Of being a bad hombre
Bad hombre, k**ing was his game (x2)
Now as long we have it
One hot and dusty day
Someone came to town
And looking for the bad hombre
Old Jim Dawson's son
Was out to take Bill Kelly's life
And prove once and for all
Who was the fastest gun alive
His senses fill with danger
He lets the kid draw first
Suddenly the air
Is filled with bullets and gun smoke
In an instant it was over
One wrong move it's all it takes
And the only one last standing
Would be the bad hombre