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There was Jesse James and
the Cisco Kid,
You’ve seen ‘em on the
telly,
But a woman did more than
all of them did,
That woman was Three-Gun
Sally.
She was seventeen stone
with short black hair,
On her breast was an old
tin star,
With a six-gun hanging on
each huge hip
And a derringer stuffed in
her bra.
For lunch each day she went
to the bar
And ate half a steer or
more,
She drank from a bucket
beside her chair,
Sucking a four-foot straw.
She rode a black horse, a
big, old mare,
The biggest horse you’ve
ever seen,
Its legs were spread so far
apart
You could drive a car
between.
A feller insulted her,
outside the bar,
He said she resembled a
calf,
She shot off his hands,
then both of his feet,
And then shot off his ears,
for a laugh.
She had only one rival, in
all of the West,
He lived in the very next
town,
He was tall and lean and
rode a white horse,
She had promised to gun him
down.
It was Smartypants Jack
whom Sally did loath,
He was fast on the draw, so
they said,
He’d been in ninety-nine
six-gun fights,
And ninety-nine men were
dead.
It was Sunday noon and a
very hot day,
And quickly the word spread
around,
Sally was told as she
cleaned all her guns,
Smartypants Jack was in
town.
They stood in the street in
the scorching heat,
Jack felt a pain in his
hand,
As he dropped his left gun
he shot with the right
And Sally collapsed in the
sand.
Jack approached slowly,
watching for tricks,
His gun remained pointed at
Sally,
He saw her bra twitch, and
started to laugh,
Then collapsed with a slug
in his belly.
Sally was rolling in
agony, gasping,
Smartypants panted for
life,
Then Sally rolled over and
laughed at his pain,
In her hand was a
fourteen-inch knife.
And so perished Jack, with
a knife in the back,
A victim of Sally’s third
gun,
And Sally died too, in the
dust and the sand,
Lying there, dead, in the
sun.
So ended two heroes, though
nobody knows.
It’s never been shown on
the telly,
Smartypants Jack with a
knife in the back,
And knife-throwing
Three-Gun Sally.
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