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He’s a vicious steer rustling, horse thiefAmong outlaws truly bad ass in chiefHis shooting and stealing sets him apartSo be careful when drinking with Black Bart.What ever else you do don’t turn your back;That’s when he’s most likely to attackJust like a rattlesnake he likes to biteWhen you can’t see he’s spoiling for a fight.At six feet 10 Bart’s dangerous and trimA squaw’s tiny scalp pinned on his hat’s brimHe loves to brag of deeds must cruelly doneRustling, raping and killing just for fun.That dark night we knew there’d be more killingWhen into the bar burst Tom Skilling.Not a one of us wanted to get nearHe slammed open the saloon’s double doorAnd strode toward Bart across the filthy floorHis eyes flashed with the glare of righteous ire“Are you the bastard set my house afire?”Bart glared right back and gave a nod“That’s right, I torched it, torched it good by God.”“Are you the one that shot my little pup?”Gunslinger Bart’s reply was a terse “Yup.”“Was it you that drove off my old grey mare?”Bart grinned wide. “Well sodbuster, I was there.”“Were you the one that ravished my new bride?”“Yeah, that part was a great ride,” Bart replied.Said Tom, “Here’s what I wanted to ask about“Hey Bart, “Do you want to cut that crap out?”
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