I’m moving out of Tombstone, with the sun behind my back. I’m tired of people talking of things that I lack.
Ever since a week ago, the day he passed away I’ve been taking too much notice of the things they’ve had to say.
And all they say is “You ain’t half the man he used to be. He had strength and he worked his life to feed his family.”
So if that’s the way it has to be, I’ll say goodbye to you. I’m not the guy, or so it seems, to fill my old man’s shoes.
Like I’m a wicked way of life, the kind that should be tamed.
They’d like to see me locked in jail and tied up in their chains.
Oh, it’s hard and I can’t see what they want me to do Lord, Lord!
They seem to think I should step into the old man’s shoes.
