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Here lies Les Moore
four slugs from a forty-four
no Les no more.
Out in Arizona just south of Tucson
where tumbleweeds tumble in search of a home
there's a town they call Tombstone
where the brave never cry.
They live by a six-gun by a six-gun they die.
It's been a long time now since the town was a boon.
The jailhouse is empty so's the Palace Saloon.
Just one look will tell you that this town was real.
A secluded old dirt road leads up to Boot Hill.
Walk up to the fence there and look at the view;
That's where they were hangin' eighteen-eighty-two.
It's easy to see where the brave men died;
Rope marks on the old tree are now petrified.
At night when the moon shines so far away
It gets mighty lonesome lookin' down on their graves.
There lies Billy Klen; never wanted to kill
but he's there with the guilty way up on Boot Hill.
