Well they say that there ain't no gunslingers left in town
But he's rollin' them one-hand ciggies and knocking them coke cans down
Now two times a week one all covers them for a dozen
He straps that Gretsch on to his neck and gets those silvers tuggin', now go
Well I've learned from the best not to trample with others nest
And my style belies all the tales and the miles
But each weekend I own each square metre I'm allowed
I'm your pistol for hire, yeh
The last gunslinger in town
Well old band hit the top 50 yeh til it all went pear-shaped
When some dick had revelation to record in LA
Now he just can't wait for that sun to hide away
Til that day glow, it's a pain you know, and that buggery sure don't pay, now go
Well I've learned from the best not to trample where others nest
And my style belies all the tales and the miles
But each weekend I own each square metre I'm allowed
I'm your pistol for hire, yeh
The last gunslinger in town
We're all going to La La land
We're all going to La La land
To lights, thick smoke and loud, loud music
It's the only kinda life you'll ever understand
Well I've learned from the best not to trample where others nest
And my style belies all the tales and the miles
But each weekend I own each square metre I'm allowed
I'm your pistol for hire, yeh
The last gunslinger in town
Writer(s): Tim Adrian Rogers
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