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not sure of exactness but closer than the other two on here Intro single picked notes e B G D A5 7 slide 9 0 open A string E 7 5 or Key of D progression-D Bm D Bm D Bm Em A e A F#m Bm F# Bm e A D Bm Nobody knew where he came from D Bm They only knew he came in D Bm Slowly he walked to the end of the bar Em A And he ordered up one slug of gin. e A Well, I could see that he wasn't a large man F#m Bm I could tell that he wasn't too tall F# Bm I judged him to be 'bout five-foot three e A 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 thru the winter For thirty a month and his board I started to say where he might land a job When a fellow came in thru 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. [ Tab from: http://www.guitaretab.com/m/marty-robbins/243659.html ] 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 thru 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. |