(J. Dickinson-R. Cooder)



This here was our situation

We was just young wildwood boys

New as the birth of the nation

The kind that the Army employs

High riding Rebs from Missouri

Fought for the grey ???

Caught up by the battle and the fury

Back when just living was hell



After the battle was over

And after the Union had won

It was quitting that made us the loser

So we kept doing just what we'd done

Riding as comrads together

We looted the trains and the banks

Removing that carpetbag money

And sticking it hard to the Yanks



Death always follows behind you

When you ride down that old outlaw trail

Someday a bullet will find you

Or you'll rot like a corpse in some jail

Turning your back to the danger

Is a wager no man can afford

'Cause gold turns a friend to a stranger

Like old Judas turned on our Lord



Men are revered and remembered

While they lay in that coffin and rot

Some live in the legends of history

Most are forever forgot

The victory it goes to the strongest

And only the strong will survive

Survival is living the longest

But nobody gets out alive



The questions don't never get answered

And the rights, they're remembered all wrong

The facts, they can get plenty confusing

So someday if you happen to be singing this song

Remember it's just for the record

You can't change the handwork of fate

And tell 'em I lived for the moment

And I died when I tried to go straight