Well it's high noon, out in front of that old saloon.
I've got my piece upon my hip and I aim to use it.
At high noon, all the shadows, they cease to move.
You can feel the heat in the hawk cry through the blue.
I just can't wait to light this motherfucker up.
I'm just hangin on my cue, like a drunk playin' pool, yeah.
My ammunition bag is fully stocked up.
Gonna blaze these saddles with my goons.
They say I'm a crazy train, 'cause my motives are loco.
Spittin silver bullets from my tongue, headed for Acapulco.
With any luck, we're gonna get some gold.
There's a bounty for the takin' there, or so I'm told.
We rolled into the joint just about twenty past four.
We hit that town like the fog before a thunderstorm.
Lookin' to strike the red haired woman with the dark green eyes.
She goes by the name of Sweet Mary Jane, and shes wanted dead or alive.
We found her frolickin' in a field, ain't tryna hide.
She said, "Hey there boys, what can I help you find?"
I said, "We been lookin for you girl so don't you move,"
"Now I command you to put your hands at high noon."
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