I'll sing you a true song of Billy the Kid I'll sing the record of deeds that he did Way out in New Mexico a long time ago When a man's only friend was his own forty-four Now when Billy the Kid was a very young lad In old Silver City he went to the bad Way out west with a knife in his hand At the age of twelve years he k**ed his first man Fair Mexican maidens play guitars and sing Songs about Billy their boy bandit king Before this young manhood reached its sad end He'd a notch on his pistol for twenty one men It was on one black night that poor Billy died He said to his friends, "I'm not satisfied There's twenty one men that I've put bullets through And sheriff Pat Garrett's gonna make twenty-two" Well, this is how Billy the Kid met his fate A big moon was shining and the hour was late Shot down by Pat Garrett, Silver City's best friend The poor outlaw's life have reached its sad end