(J. Dickinson-R. Cooder) 



This here was our situation 

We was just young wildwood boys 

New as the birth of the nation 

The kind that the Army employs 

High riding Rebs from Missouri 

Fought for the grey ??? 

Caught up by the battle and the fury 

Back when just living was hell 



After the battle was over 

And after the Union had won 

It was quitting that made us the loser 

So we kept doing just what we'd done 

Riding as comrads together 

We looted the trains and the banks 

Removing that carpetbag money 

And sticking it hard to the Yanks 



Death always follows behind you 

When you ride down that old outlaw trail 

Someday a bullet will find you 

Or you'll rot like a corpse in some jail 

Turning your back to the danger 

Is a wager no man can afford 

'Cause gold turns a friend to a stranger 

Like old Judas turned on our Lord 



Men are revered and remembered 

While they lay in that coffin and rot 

Some live in the legends of history 

Most are forever forgot 

The victory it goes to the strongest 

And only the strong will survive 

Survival is living the longest 

But nobody gets out alive 



The questions don't never get answered 

And the rights, they're remembered all wrong 

The facts, they can get plenty confusing 

So someday if you happen to be singing this song 

Remember it's just for the record 

You can't change the handwork of fate 

And tell 'em I lived for the moment 

And I died when I tried to go straight