Last Gunfighter Ballad

Now the burn of a bullet is only a scar
And he's back in his chair in front of a bar
And the streets are empty and the blood's all dried
The dead are dust and the whiskey's inside
So buy him a drink and lend him an ear
He's nobody's fool and he's the only one here
Who remembers the smell of the black powder smoke
And the stand in the street at the turn of a joke