| There was a man whose deeds were dark as night
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| And quite by chance he rode into the light
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| A man, wild as a dust devil with no place to run
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| Living by his wits and by his gun
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| He met a girl like none he’d ever known
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| She cared not for the wild oats he had sewn
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| And, so, he laid his gun down and set his spirit free
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| Began living in respectability
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| But his old ways of thinking wouldn’t die
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| Could not forget the old creed he lived by
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| And the good and bad and the right and wrong kept fighting for his soul
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| 'Til his heart and mind both went out of control
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| But now the old saloon had lost its spell
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| What once was laughter now was living hell
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| And the hookers, guns and drinking in his life were out of place
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| And in his mind he saw an Angel’s face
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| So, he burned all his bridges in a day
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| And the Devil deeds were done and laid away
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| And he rode out a better man than when he first rode in
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| And the Angel got the Badman in the end |