The boy was asleep in his cabana He woke to the of guns in the night And in the dark he saw three Mexicanos His was shouting, "Boy run for your life!" He and he wept at the sight that he saw His and papa lay dead on the floor They laughed as he ran and rode on their way But how will it be if they see him
Oh, an angel of death, you go Desperado from more will he run Oh, up through the wind and rain With revenge in your brain And your hand on gun
A little village was just south of Reno Where had told him he might find the men And there in the stairway, they're the vino The Mexicanos were laughing again He pushed his sombrero from his face His cigarillo was pounding in place The Mexicans at the man they can see And wondered who this could be
Oh, an angel of death, you go Desperado Mexico Never more he run Oh, up through the wind and rain With revenge burning in your And your hand on gun
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ooohhh... Pistole-, Pistolero... You're the devil's And the what you see Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ooohhh... Pistole-, Pistolero... will be your companero While you your dream
He looked contempt at the cowardly killers His eyes as cold as the hate in his heart "Get ready to fire and con dios." He lowered the hand that would blow them Then suddenly somewhere, the voice of his Was shouting, "Forgive them and put down gun!" He knew in his that the madness was over He climbed on his and rode into the sun
Oh, Like an of death, you go from Mexico Never will he run Oh, Riding up through the and rain With revenge burning in brain Now over and done
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ooohhh... Pistole-, Pistolero... You're the devil's And the devil's you see Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ooohhh... Pistole-, Pistolero... Death be your companero While you follow your Oh oh oh ooohhh... ooohhh... ooohhh...