Old Blueberry Stone
(Apologies to Curly Fletcher)
NOTE: There ain't no chorus!

I was hangin' 'round town just a-wastin' my time,
Nothin' to spend, not even a dime
When a feller steps up and he says, "I suppose
You're a gunslingin' man by the looks of your clothes."
"You guessed me right, and a good one," I claim,
"Do you happen to have any gunslingers to tame?"
He says, "I've got one and a bad one at that;
You kin see he's a bad one cuz he wears a black hat."

I gets all excited and I ask what he pays
To gunsling for him for a couple of days.
He offers me ten, I says, "I'm your man,
For there's no gun ever made that I couldn't fan;
He says, "Get your saddle, ya big old Walloon."
We gets into his buckboard and rode to the saloon.

Well, standin' outside and him all alone,
Was an ugly old fella named Blueberry Stone.
His legs were splayed and he had pigeon toes,
Little pig eyes and a big Roman nose.
His ears were all pierced from the top to the tip,
And six forty-fives a-ridin' his hips,
He's ugly and old, and he swallers his chaw,
You can see with one eye he's a reg'lar outlaw.

Well I puts on my guns and likewise my boots,
And I says, "Hey, Blueberry, you're an ugly galoot!"
I knew him on sight, I'd dealty with him before,
I was powerful glad for my twin forty-fours,
Likewise my forty-fives, and my small twenty-two,
Three derringer guns, and my old thirty-two,
And the folks they all scattered to left and to right
Cuz no one in their right mind likes any gun fight.

He went for for his guns without even "My Lands!"
And before you could spit he had two in his hands
He hits me in hat and right near my left boot
While I was a-standin' there countin' my loot
But I slaps my leather while watchin' my step
For I'm still determined on buildin' a rep.
I puts one in his shoulder and one in the groin,
Yes, I'm slappin' leather and feelin' just fine.

Well, I dodge to the right and I dodge to the left
Cuz I don't want to leave all my kinfolk bereft.
I wheel and I turn and he does the same,
We both know the rules of the gunslingin' game
Then he runs out of guns to grab and to throw
But I've still got one and it's then that he knows
That at this gun flingin' he's sure met his match
And I throws it just like we're some kids playin' catch.

Well, I've known many gun flingers though out my life,
Some of 'em single and some with a wife,
But Blueberry Stone he was one of the best
He'd grab and he'd throw and outdo the rest,
But one thing I've learned as I've lived my long life
I can out-throw anyone with my Colt forty-five!