| I was rooting through the attic back about a week or so
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| And I came across a relic of the long, long years ago
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| I brung me recollections that I best forget
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| Cause the very memory of it still upsets me yet
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| Just a ten gallon Stetson with a hole in the crown
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| Where old Dead-Eye Dalton tried to mow me down
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| Dead-Eye Dalton was a headshot like old Hickok is today
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| When a sheriff asked a favor who am I to turn away?
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| He knowed I had this holster since I was a scout
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| So in rooting through the attic, here’s what I dug out
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| Just a ten gallon Stetson with a hole in the crown
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| Where old Dead-Eye Dalton tried to mow me down
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| Now it brings me back a memory of a very distant day
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| There was me and Dead-Eye Dalton, we was plugging dead away
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| Oh how we get to thinking life is just like that
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| When a-rooting through the attic, and you’ll find a hat
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| Just a ten gallon Stetson with a hole in the crown
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| Where old Dead-Eye Dalton tried to mow me down
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| Where old Dead-Eye Dalton tried to mow me down |