Billy was a bad man
And carried a big gun,
He was always after Greasers
And kept 'em on the run.
He shot one every morning,
For to make his morning meal.
And let a white man sass him,
He was shore to feel his steel.
He kept folks in hot water,
And he stole from many a stage;
And when he was full of liquor
He was always in a rage.
But one day he met a man
Who was a whole lot badder.
And now he's dead,
And we ain't none the sadder.
A Texas cowboy lay down on a bar-room floor.
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.
The engine with murderous blood was damp
And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp;
An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones,
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.
The boiler was filled with lager beer
And the devil himself was the engineer;
The passengers were a most motley crew,—
Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew,
Rich men in broadcloth, beggars in rags,
Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags,
Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white.
All chained together,—O God, what a sight!