My two favourites:
The Ballad of Irving
Frank Gallop
He was short and fat, and rode out of the West
With a Mogen David on his silver vest.
He was mean and nasty right clear through,
Which was kinda weird, 'cause he was yellow too.
They called him Irving.
Big Irving.
Big, short Irving.
Big, short, fat Irving.
The hundred and forty-second fastest gun in the West.
He came from the old Bar Mitzvah spread,
With a 10-gallon yarmulke on his head.
He always followed his mother's wishes,
Even on the range he used two sets of dishes.
Irving.
Big, fat Irving.
Big sissy Irving.
The two hundred and second fastest gun in the West.
A two hundred and one could draw faster than he,
But Irving was looking for two-oh-three.
Walked into Sol's Saloon like a man insane,
And ordered three fingers of two cents plain.
Irving.
Big, fat Irving.
Big sport Irving.
The three hundred and tenth fastest gun in the West.
One day Bad Max happened into town.
His aim was to shoot fat Irving down.
Bad Max said, "Draw, and draw right now!"
And Irving drew, drew a picture of a cow.
Irving.
Big, fat Irving.
Big gunfighter Irving.
The four hundred and eighty-second fastest gun in the West.
The James Boys was comin' on a train at first sun,
And the town said, "Irving, we need your gun."
When that train pulled in at the break of dawn,
Irving's gun was there, but Irving was gone.
Irving.
Big, fat Irving.
Big help, Irving.
The six hundred and fifty-second fastest gun in the West.
Well, finally Irving got three slugs in the belly.
It was right outside the Frontier Deli.
He was sittin' there twirlin' his gun around,
And butterfingers Irving gunned himself down!
Irving.
Big, fat Irving.
Big dum-dum Irving.
Big dum-dum dead Irving.
The nine hundred and thirty-third fastest gun in the West.
Really.
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And this from "Young Guns 2" Soundtrack...Jon Bon Jovi
Billy Get Your Guns lyrics
[William Bonney:] "Yoo-hoo, I'll make you famous!"
I just seen trouble, he's calling out your name tonight
Billy get your guns
You could walk away but I know you were born to fight
So Billy get your guns
The bandoleros are strung out in the promenade
Billy get your guns
And the wind whispers softly that the devil's to blame
Billy get your guns
Billy get your guns
There's trouble blowing like a hurricane
Billy get your guns
That's the price on your head for the price of fame
And it'll never change
Billy get your guns
There's a whiskey bottle empty sittin' on the bar
Billy get your guns
And some organ grinder singing about some sucker moving on
Billy get your guns
All the whores are hanging out waiting to get paid
Billy get your guns
From some Johnny on the spot who said hey keep the change baby
Billy get your guns
Billy get your guns
There's trouble blowing like a hurricane
Billy get your guns
That's the price on your head for the price of fame
And it'll never change
No, Billy get your guns
They christened you with whiskey
And there's fire running through your veins
Well you're an outlaw just the same
And every night a bullet wears your name
[Guitar solo]
Billy get your guns
There's trouble blowing like a hurricane
Billy get your guns
That's the price on your head for the price of fame
And it'll never change
No, Billy get your guns
I've seen a hangman dancing beneath the pale moonlight
Billy get your guns
And every stranger that you meet thinks it's his lucky night
Billy get your guns
I don't envy you Billy but I want to say
You better get your guns
'Cause every outlaw that's died will live to ride again
Billy get your guns
Billy get your guns
There's trouble blowing like a hurricane
Billy get your guns
That's the price on your head for the price of fame
And it'll never change
Billy get your guns, Billy get your guns
Billy get your guns, Billy get your guns
