And you ask why I live in this desolate spot.
Because you do not.
For goodness sakes.
Stuffed in their mouth.
And fix gator stew.
With brains and good taste.
BILLY THE KID
Billy the Kid
Didn’t do half of what they said he did
He rustled cattle, I guess that’s true,
But nobody knew who they belonged to.
He killed some men, maybe two or three,
But he was always real nice to me.
Billy the Kid went on the run
Down to Mesilla in 1881.
Sheriff Pat Garrett put on the heat
And came to the ranch of Billy’s friend Pete.
But it wasn’t Billy who was shot by Pat,
It was someone wearing his pants and hat,
Billy the Kid was miles away
In Santa Fe with flowers in his hair
And I know cause I was there.
He made a fortune in fermented juices
And built a mansion in Las Cruces,
Changed his name to William Bonney
Wrote “Way Down Upon The Swanee”
And he may have been guilty to a degree
But he was always real good to me
And generous to my family.
Always sent us a Christmas turkey
From Albuquerque
And a box of chocolate candy
From down on the Rio Grande.
They called him a killer and I guess he could be
But he was always good to me.