| As I went down for to take a little walk
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| I came upon that Wild Bill Jones
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| He was a-walkin'and a-talkin'by my true lover’s side
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| And I bid him to leave her alone
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| He said, «My age is twenty-one,
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| Too old to be controlled.»
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| I pulled my revolver from my side
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| And I destroyed that poor boys soul
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| He reeled and he staggered then he fell to the ground
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| And then he gave one giant moan
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| He wrapped his arms around my little girl’s neck
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| Saying, «Honey, won’t you carry me home.»
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| So put them handcuffs on me boys
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| And lead me to that freight car gate
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| I have no friends or relations there
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| No one for to go my bail
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| So pass around that ol’longneck bottle
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| And we’ll all go on a spree
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| Today saw the last of Wild Bill Jones
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| And tomorrow’ll be the last of me |