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Mr. Shorty Lyrics - No. 1 Cowboy - Marty Robbins

Nobody knew where he came from 

They only knew he came in 

Slowly he walked to the end of the bar 

And he ordered up one slug of gin 

 

Well, I could see that he wasn't a large man 

I could tell that he wasn't too tall 

I judged him to be 'bout five foot three 

And his voice was a soft Texas drawl 

 

Said he was needin' some wages 

'Fore he could ride for the west 

Said he could do most all kind of work 

Said he could ride with the best 

 

There in his blue eyes was sadness 

That comes from the need of a friend 

And tho' he tried, he still couldn't hide 

The loneliness there deep within 

 

Said he would work through the winter 

For thirty a month and his board 

I started to say where he might land a job 

When a fellow came in through the door 

 

And I could tell he was lookin' for trouble 

From the way that he came stompin' in 

He told me to leave Shorty there by himself 

Come down and wait on a man 

 

The eyes of the little man narrowed 

The smile disappeared from his face 

Gone was the friendliness that I had seen 

And a wild look of hate took its place 

 

But the big one continued to mock him 

And he told me that I'd better go 

Find him a couple of glasses of milk 

Then maybe Shorty would grow 

 

When the little man spoke, there was stillness 

He made sure that everyone heard 

Slowly he stepped away from the bar 

And I still remember these words 

 

Oh, it's plain that you're lookin' for trouble 

Trouble's what I try to shun 

If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get 

'Cause cowboy, we're both packin' guns 

 

His hand was already positioned 

Feet wide apart on the floor 

I hadn't noticed but there on his hip 

Was a short barreled bass forty-four 

 

It was plain, he was ready and waitin' 

He leaned a bit forward and said 

"When you call me Shorty, say Mister, my friend 

Maybe you'd rather be dead" 

 

In the room was a terrible silence 

As the big one stepped out on the floor 

All drinkin' stopped and the tick of the clock 

Said death would wait ten seconds more 

 

He cussed once or twice in a whisper 

And he said with a snarl on his lips 

Nobody's Mister to me, little man 

And he grabbed for the gun on his hips 

 

But the little man's hands was like lightning 

The bass forty-four was the same 

The forty-four spoke and it sent lead and smoke 

And seventeen inches of flame 

 

For the big one had never cleared leather 

Beaten before he could start 

A little round hole had appeared on his shirt 

The bullet went clear through his heart 

 

The little man stood there a moment 

Then holstered the bass forty-four 

It's always this way so I never stay 

Slowly he walked out the door 

 

Nobody knew where he came from 

They won't forget he came by 

They won't forget how a forty-four gun 

One night made the difference in size 

 

As for me, I'll remember the sadness 

Shown in the eyes of the man 

If we meet someday, you can bet I would say 

That it's me, Mr. Shorty, your friend 

Writer:

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