Lyrics Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash

The Last Gunfighter Ballad

The old gunfighter stood on the porch

and stared into the sun

And relived all the old days

back when he was livin' by the gun

When deadly games of pride were played

and livin' was mistakes not made

And the thought of the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

The thought of the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

And it's always keep your back to the sun

And you can almost feel the weight of that gun

It's faster than snakes or a blink of the eye

And it's a time for all slow men to die

His eyes get squinty and he's straight as a log

and he empties his gun at the dirty dog

And he's hit by the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

Hit by the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

Now the burn of a bullet is only a scar

And he's back in his chair in front of a bar

And the streets are empty and the blood's all dried

The dead are dust and the whiskey's inside

So buy him a drink and lend him an ear

He's nobody's fool and he's the only one here

Who remembers the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

Remembers the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

Said I stood in that street before it was paved

I learned to shoot or be shot before I could shave

And I did it all for the money and the fame

Noble was nothing but feelin' no shame

And nothing was sacred but stayin' alive

And all that I learned from a Colt .45

Was to cuss the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

Cuss the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

Now he's just an old man that nobody believes

Says he's a gunfighter the last of this breed

And there's ghosts in the street seekin' revenge

Callin' him out to the lunatic fringe

He's out in the traffic now checking the sun

And he's killed by a car as he goes for his gun

So much for the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke

So much for the smell of the black powder smoke

And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke