The old gunfighter stood on the porch
And stared into sun
And relived all the old days
Back when he was living by the gun
When deadly games of pride were played
And living was mistakes not made
And the thought of the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
The thought of the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
And it's always keep your back to the sun
And you can almost feel the weight of that gun
It's faster than snakes or the blink of eye
And it's a time for all slow men to die
His eyes get squinty and he's straight as log
And he empties his gun at the dirty dog
And he's hit by the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
Hit by the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
Now the burn of a bullet is only a scar
And he's back in his chair
In front of a bar
And the streets are empty
And the blood's all dried
The dead are dust
And and the whiskey's inside
So buy him a drink and lend him an ear
He's nobody's fool
But he's the only one here
Who remembers the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
Remembers the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
"Son, I stood in that street before it was paved
I learned the shoot or be shot
Before I could shave
And I did it all for the money and the fame
Noble was nothing but feeling no shame
And nothing was sacred but staying alive
And all that I learned from a Colt fourty-five
Was to cuss the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
To cuss the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke"
Now he's just an old man that nobody believes
Says he's a gunfighter
The last of this breed
And there's ghosts in the street
Seeking revenge
Calling him out to the lunatic fringe
He's out in the traffic now checking the sun
And he's killed by a car
As he goes for his gun
So much for the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke
So much for the smell
Of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street
At the turn of a joke