Dm C The old gunfighter on the porch stared into the sun A# F And relived all the old days back when he was living by the gun Dm When deadly games of pride were played and C Living was mistakes not made A# And the thought of the smell of the black powder smoke C F And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke A# F The thought of the smell of the black powder smoke C F and the stand in the street at the turn of a joke And it's always keep your back to the sun And you can almost feel the weight of that gun And it's faster than snakes or a blink of the eye And it's a time for all slow men to die His eyes get squinty and he's straight as log And he empties his gun at the dirty dog And he's hit by the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke Hit by the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke Now the burn of a bullet is only a scar And he's back in his chair in front of a bar And the streets are empty and the blood's all dried The dead are dust and and the whiskey's inside So buy him a drink and lend him an ear He's nobody's fool but he's the only one here Who remembers the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke Remembers the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke Son I stood in that street before it was paved I learned the shoot or be shot before I could shave And I did it all for the money and the fame Noble was nothing but feeling no shame And nothing was sacred but staying alive And all that I learned from a Colt 45 Was to cuss the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke To cuss the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke Now he's just an old man that nobody believes Says he's a gunfighter, the last of this breed And there's ghosts in the street seeking revenge Calling him out to the lunatic fringe He's out in the traffic now checking the sun And he's killed by a car as he goes for his gun So much for the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke So much for the smell of the black powder smoke And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke | TransposeReset Font sizeReset Chords fingeringsA# C Dm F |