Bob Dylan

There's guns across the river 'bout to pound you,
There's a lawman on your trail like to surround you,
Bounty hunters are dancing all around you.
Billy, they don't like you to be so free.

Camping out all night on the VERANDA,
Walking the streets down by the hacienda,
Up to Boot Hill THEY'D like to send you.
Billy, don't you turn your back on me.

There's mills inside the minds of crazy faces,
Bullet holes and rifles in their cases,
There is always one more notch and four more aces,
Billy, and you're playing all alone.

Playing around with some sweet SEÑORITA,
Into her dark chamber she will greet you,
In the shadows of the maizes she will lead you,
Billy, and you're going all alone.

They say that Pat Garrett's got your number,
So sleep with one eye open when you wander,
IF every little sound just might be thunder,
Thunder from the barrel of his gun.

There's always another stranger sneaking glances,
Some trigger-happy fool willing to take chances,
Some old whore from San Pedro'll make advances,
Advances on your spirit and your soul.

The businessmen from Taos want you to go down,
So they've hired mister Garrett, he'll force you to slow down,
Billy, don't let it make you feel so low down
To be hunted by the man who was your friend.

So hang on to your woman, if you got one,
Remember in El Paso once you shot one,
up in Santa Fe you bought one
Billy, you've been running for so long.

Gypsy queens will play your grand finale
Way down in some Tularosa alley
Maybe in El Rio Pecos alley
Billy, you're so far away from home
Billy, you're so far away from home