Born under a south Kentucky sky
 [bad word] west to Mexico to fight 1842 at Mier 
The gutters filled with blood and fear
Barely made it back to Texas alive

With Missouri Volunteers when the war began 
In ’46 they crossed the Rio Grande
There he met his dark-eyed love

But said good bye when the war was done
He swore that [bad word] back for her again

Oh oh novia
Oh oh your man is gone
Maybe he’s in Texas
But we’ll take what God has left us 
And we’ll leave for California with the dawn

Worked his way back to Old Mexico
To reclaim the love he’d left two years ago 
Back to those same city walls 
Where he’d watched copper cannonballs 
image: [bad word] /static.urx.io/units/web/urx-unit-loader.gif

Like wayward suns roll down the cobblestones

They put him in a prison left alone
With other yankee fools so far from home
Parade them through the square in chains
‘Till in rode Captain Glanton’s gang
Apache scalps for bounties paid in gold

Glanton’s men were killers all by trade
And through the prison bars a deal was made 
Glanton needed three new men 
Hired the lovelorn veteran
The killers rode out through the governor’s gates

The Veteran left camp ‘fore the rising sun
No killer he’d left other work undone
He was not yet two days out
When Glanton’s naked native scouts
Brought back his empty horse and his brand new gun
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