Buckskin Joe

Here’s the story of Buckskin Joe, a low-down outlaw who had to go.
He roamed the rocks of the Arizona Strip with a pair of pistols on his hip.
A brand of badness clear to the bone,
an outlaw like that shouldn’t be left to roam, oh no.
His sunken face would rarely grin, he looked like death and he smelled like sin.
He robbed and murdered more than twenty, but one day it’d be one too many.
The wheels of justice turn real slow,
but turn they will and roll right for Buckskin Joe.All you outlaws out there, before you cross this country, beware.
You better take your thievin’, murderin’ ways elsewhere
or you’ll be swingin’ low just like Buckskin Joe.
Major Downing had to go to town, he took with him young Mormon Brown.
Left the ranch to Juan from Mexico. Left easy pickins’ for Buckskin Joe,
who with one rope and one piece of lead
stole a string of horses and left poor Juan dead, oh no!
Major Downing started packin’, he and Mormon Brown they were goin’ trackin’.
They caught Buckskin, who cursed them roundly,
worked quick and strung him up soundly.
Buckskins’ spurs jingled as he was hangin’.
They nailed a sign above him, but what was it sayin’? It said…
All you outlaws out there, before you cross this country, beware.
You better take your thievin’, murderin’ ways elsewhere
or you’ll be swingin’ low just like Buckskin Joe.
That’s the story of Buckskin Joe. That low-down outlaw, he had to go.