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Şarkı

This is the hour of the savage guns Beyond the pale and beyond the sun Ganged up with Jesse by the mating call of gold Side by side fighting not changing the course The code of law in the hand of the one Who drags you to the hagning tree Bloodhounds in the hands of those Who will have to bleed Hanging judge He is the law Hanging judge You are in his claws Hanging judge The trapdoor will fall Hanging judge Bullets for breakfast and dust to breathe To be on the point to strike down all the wimps Killing the riders of the whistling pine By each wardrum beat someone will die The wild bunch riding wings of hawks Red painted deserts where you broke the law Your facedown life ain't so much of a pity Against the fools and against the glory