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