Tell you 'bout a Saint Patrick's day when the stuff has hit the fan.
The year was eighteen-eighty-six in a little country town.
The men was two mixed-blood brothers name o' Ed and Charlie Brown.
The boys was sharp, workin' hard, rollin' for the man,
Didn't know time had come for them to make a stand.
Movin' barrels, an accident with a man named James Lidell.
He called Ed a S.O.B. and told him go to hell.
Evenin' came to fan the flames of the violent bloody move.
Pistols come from under coats and everybody shoots.
[Spoken] Now sometime durin' the shootin' James Lidell caught a hit in the arm and one in the thigh—just enough to hurt but not bad enough to die. He made it back home and rounded up about sixty of his boys—just enough to make him feel like a man. A few days later when the assault trial against him was set, he came back with sixty heavily armed character witnesses.
Them other men came ridin' in with Colts an' Smiths ablaze.
Ed caught two in the chest and Charlie in the face.
Courthouse windows shattered and the people in a daze,
Bullet holes, wasted souls an' blood about the place.
[Spoken] Charlie and Ed had used the injustice system to their complete disadvantage. The grand jury said they had it comin'. After all, they was just desperate half-breeds.
We have seen some dark days in the history of man:
Broken hearts, stolen lives and tales of stolen names.
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2014/12/23 - 13:20
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.