Hardin Wouldn't Run
I know a man whose plow handle hand is quicker than a light.
Wes Hardin is his name, they say, he travels in the night.
For he might have to kill or walk around a fight.
And if you ever saw Wes Hardin draw,
You know he can skin his gun.
He won't say how many tried and died,
Up against the top hand, Up against the wrong man,
?cause Hardin wouldn't run.
He rode in like the Texas wind;
Took the Eastbound train, goin?, goin? with Jane Bowen,
Till the law man caught up.
?So long, Janie. Chin up. I'll back again.?
Off he went to Huntsville prison, ?So long, Jane?, he cried.
Fifteen years she waited, till her heart broke and she died,
And she left that bad land to wait up in the sky.
Free at last, the payin? past for all the wrong he did.
First free air they let him breathe since he was a kid.
So let him come and let him go, and let him deal and bid.
Near the border in El Paso ?Lawyer? reads the sign,
But you won't find him there for Bus?ness ev?ry day at nine.
For Bus?ness is real bad, one client's all he had in quite a long time.
Then Sheriff Selman's boy broke into Wes's woman's place.
Up she jumped and pistol whipped him, kicked him in the face.
And John Selman demands revenge for this disgrace.
You can see her ev?ry night by candlelight at Hardin's fav?rite bar.
She?d be hangin? on his arm, and very late they?d leave there,
Headin? for the goose hair, glad it wasn't far.
Thru the swingin? door John Selman came with blazin? gun.
Wes Hardin chug-a-luggin? red eye,
Got him in the back of the head.
John Wesley Hardin fell dead,
?Cause Hardin wouldn't run.
Writer(s): Johnny R. Cash
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