Wild Bunch

Wild Bunch Wild Bunch What a god-damned tragic group of men When William Holden was shot in the stomach And died of bleeding from within There's blood on the veranda And some man's kidneys drying in the sun The Wild Bunch didn't like the future much Tried to blow it away with their guns The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch Ernest Borgnine's grin Had a gap in the teeth for the sun and the sand And if he had not have been a killer of men He'd have made a fine wagon salesman or a grampa But at Agua Verde, the screaming, the prayers and the gunfire Are the last things he ever hears And he dies the blood bubbling at his mouth and says I would not have it any other way The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch Angel's throat cut, Mapache dies All these god-damned outlaws going wild This is the bloodiest scene of all the movies made Up till 1969 And this is not the story of Billy The Kid Or of Alfredo Garcia with his gigalo's head This is the Wild Bunch left for dead With Robert Ryan on their trail The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch And the railroad sent its killers to find you And they will not stop until your dead You were enemies together in the desert But you're brothers for the blood that you shed Oh, how many, will celebrate your ending How many that you left in pain You widowed wives, you stole from prostitutes You made good men your prey They're the wild bunch They're the wild bunch Wild Bunch And the Wild Bunch are dead There's sand in the food you eat And there's a shaking in your hand Poison in the booze you drink Sad soul of a broken man At the edge of the frontier Is lone drunk Sam Sam Peckinpah, the outlaw Bastards on his trail The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch The Wild Bunch, Wild Bunch