The section men repaired the rails
and threw our plans awry
The lawmen chased us to the hills
We saw them come, we watched them die
They took me down the Rawlins jail
I split his skull as I broke free
The lynching rope took three hard turns
to make a specter out of me
The doctor stole my corpse away
and with a saw, opened my head
He thought he'd find what turned me bad
a reason for the blood I'd shed
They took my skull, they took my skin
and sent it to the tannery
a whiskey barrel full of brine
is what my cursed tomb will be
They flick their ashes in my skull
hearing not my phantom call
The bastard made shoes of my skin
and wore them to the governor's ball
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