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Old Man Striker And His Red-Headed Whore
They were wild ones, These two Mired in gore, Old Man Striker And his red-headed whore. A time so bloody, None could remember The path they rode That dreadful September. Their Colts 44 Barked and tore, Like tusks On a blood-craving boar. Came then the vigilantes To hunt them down. In retribution, two corpses lie By the road to old Tucson town. Gone to rampage no more, Old Man Striker And his red-headed whore. |