| As a young man I was raised by men of the cloth
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| And I was tought to judge men equal and not to find their faults
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| Until one day I witnessed a tragic thing
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| The men lay on the church steps, slain
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| And when the smoke cleared a tall man holstered his gun
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| The bright day ended and a cloud did cover the sun
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| I found hate in my heart that I’d never known before
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| I’ll see this man hang and if that’s the one thing that I know for sure
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| Silverado you’ll hang by the hangman’s tree
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| And you’ll die in misery
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| His face remained in my eyes as I grew through the years
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| I practiced shooting every day while trying to hold back the tears
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| I traveled through Oklahoma and Texas to the Rio Grande
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| Knowing when I met Silverado the Lord would steady my hand
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| Silverado you’ll hang by the hangman’s tree
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| And you’ll die in misery
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| Then the day came I dreamed of for years
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| Silverado stood before me and my heart it pounded in fear
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| As he turned and saw my eyes he knew why I’d come
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| And without a flick of the eyes he went for his gun
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| And as I caused a fight tears come to my eyes
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| When he collapsed before me I dropped my gun an sighed
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| Silverado you’ll hang by the hangman’s tree
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| And you’ll die in misery |