| From Houston to New Orleans,
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| To the badlands way out west,
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| A high rider way beneath the sun,
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| When my work is done,
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| There’s no place I’m goin' to,
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| That’s the life of a Hired Gun,
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| Sheriff and his posse they came riding after me,
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| Spend my time living on the run,
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| Well no good waiting for me,
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| Left up to adore me,
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| That’s the life of a Hired Gun
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| Sometimes I think I’ll settle down,
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| Try to change my ways,
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| But what’s the use in dreaming,
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| I’ll just drift around,
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| Go from town to town
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| Go where they require me,
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| Fight for those who hire me,
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| Spend my life like a lonely one,
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| When the day is through,
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| No place I’m goin' to,
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| That’s the life of a Hired Gun
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| (That's the life of a crack-bomb)
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| Sometimes I think I’ll settle down,
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| Try to change my ways,
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| But what’s the use in dreaming,
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| I’ll just drift around,
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| Go from town to town,
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| That’s the life of a Hired Gun. |