#Convince. There's a vividness that's utterly transportative and which comes simply from Robbins own rich imagination (the genesis of the

[mariocki]

Infinite list of favourite lyrics: 199/?

Marty Robbins - Big Iron (1959)

"The morning passed so quickly, it was time for them to meet;

It was twenty past eleven when they walked out in the street.

Folks were watching from the windows, everybody held their breath -

They knew this handsome ranger was about to meet his death,

About to meet his death.

There was forty feet between them when they stopped to make their play

And the swiftness of the ranger is still talked about today:

Texas Red had not cleared leather 'fore a bullet fairly ripped,

And the ranger's aim was deadly with the big iron on his hip,

Big iron on his hip."