It was the second half Of the nineteenth century The old West story was written With pickaxe and guns Three brothers born under The star of the law, a shiny one
Scene of this battle Was a town named Tombstone Silver and lead were pulled Out with profusion The first came from veins While the other one from corpses
Upright into the gunfights Gunpowder fills the air Bold and without mercy The deadly arm of the law
The Sun was shining high In the sky that afternoon Dressed in black Four men walked down the road Not a single sound came from the streets The calm before the storm
Thirty gunshots Shook down the Ok Corral Thirty seconds To reap their sinner's souls The scum from Arizona Has been swept out From Cochise county
Upright into the gunfights
The doctor at his side A brother to avenge The last charge Of Wyatt's Immortals
With fire in their eyes And thunder in their hands The last charge Of Wyatt's Immortals
