Sonora's Death Row Songtext
von Michael Martin Murphey
Sonora's Death Row Songtext
Me and the boys cinched up our saddles
And rode to Sonora last night
Guns hangin′ proud, and darin' out loud
For anyone lookin′ to fight
Card cheats and rustlers would run for their holes
From the boys from the Old Broken O
Rode up and reined on the street that they named 'Sonora's Death Row′
An′ mescal is free in Amanda's saloon
For the boys from the old broken O
Saturday nights in the town of Sonora are the best in all Mexico
It got guitars and trumpets
And sweet senoritas who don′t want to let you go
You'd never believe such a gay, happy time
On a street called Sonora′s Death Row
Inside Amanda's, we was a dancin′
With all of Amanda's gals
I won some silver at seven card stud, so I was out doin' my pals
But the whiskey and mescal, and peso cigars
Drove me outside for some air
Somebody whispered, "Your life, or your money"
I reached, but my gun wasn′t there
I woke up facedown in Amanda′s back alley
Aware of the fool that I'd been
I rushed to my pony, grabbed my Winchester
And entered Amanda′s again
There I saw my partners, twirlin' my pistols
And throwin′ my money around
Blinded by anger, I jacked the lever
And one of 'em fell to the ground
Amanda′s got silent like night in the desert
My friends stared in pure disbelief
Amanda was kneelin' beside the dead cowboy
Plainly expressing her grief
As I bowed my head, a tremble shot through me
My six-gun was still at my side
I felt my pockets, and there was my money
I fell to my knees and I cried
A nightmare of mescal was all that it was
No-one had robbed me at all
I wish I was dreamin' the sound of the gallows
They′re testin′ just outside the wall
Mescal's still free in Amanda′s saloon
For the boys of the old broken O
I'd give a ransom to drink there today
And be free of Sonora′s death row
I'd give a ransom to drink there today
And be free of Sonora′s death row
And rode to Sonora last night
Guns hangin′ proud, and darin' out loud
For anyone lookin′ to fight
Card cheats and rustlers would run for their holes
From the boys from the Old Broken O
Rode up and reined on the street that they named 'Sonora's Death Row′
An′ mescal is free in Amanda's saloon
For the boys from the old broken O
Saturday nights in the town of Sonora are the best in all Mexico
It got guitars and trumpets
And sweet senoritas who don′t want to let you go
You'd never believe such a gay, happy time
On a street called Sonora′s Death Row
Inside Amanda's, we was a dancin′
With all of Amanda's gals
I won some silver at seven card stud, so I was out doin' my pals
But the whiskey and mescal, and peso cigars
Drove me outside for some air
Somebody whispered, "Your life, or your money"
I reached, but my gun wasn′t there
I woke up facedown in Amanda′s back alley
Aware of the fool that I'd been
I rushed to my pony, grabbed my Winchester
And entered Amanda′s again
There I saw my partners, twirlin' my pistols
And throwin′ my money around
Blinded by anger, I jacked the lever
And one of 'em fell to the ground
Amanda′s got silent like night in the desert
My friends stared in pure disbelief
Amanda was kneelin' beside the dead cowboy
Plainly expressing her grief
As I bowed my head, a tremble shot through me
My six-gun was still at my side
I felt my pockets, and there was my money
I fell to my knees and I cried
A nightmare of mescal was all that it was
No-one had robbed me at all
I wish I was dreamin' the sound of the gallows
They′re testin′ just outside the wall
Mescal's still free in Amanda′s saloon
For the boys of the old broken O
I'd give a ransom to drink there today
And be free of Sonora′s death row
I'd give a ransom to drink there today
And be free of Sonora′s death row
Writer(s): Kevin Blackie Farrell Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com