He was 9 years old when his folk left home on a wagon heading west
And his mom and dad knew he'd grow bad by the mark of the devil on his chest
Seventeen he turned up mean, he already made his bid
He had a name in the fast gun game and they called him "The Devil Kid."

Now the kid's name grew and his gun did too
When an old ghost town appeared,
sitting there in the Marshal's chair
Was the one they called "Grey Beard."

Kid, you better quit, while the quittin's good
'Cause there's always one that's bigger
There'll be one guy with a faster eye
Who's lighting on the trigger.

Let me tell you son
about a real fast gun that every outlaw feared
He made his name in this killing game
He's the one they call "Grey Beard."

He had a drawing hand like no other man
It was faster than the eye
And there were always plenty of kids about 20
Just couldn't wait to die.

He was a fast gun looking to make a name
And quickin' was his virtue and killin' was the game.

So the kid said: "Tell me where is this man who never feared a gun"
Grey Beard raised his head and said: "You're looking at him, son"

So the kid tried staring Grey Beard down with eyes like ace-up dice
And Grey beard's frown, turned upside down to a smile as cold as ice.

So the Devil Kid reached for his gun with a draw as fast as light
But he lost the game to a shot that came from somewhere out of sight

And as the kid went down and he hit the ground
Thought he lost his mind.
He heard Grey Beard snicker I was even quicker before I went stone blind.

Fast gun looking to make a name
Quikin' was his virtue
He was killed at his game...

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