The Legend of Doc Brandon

Well neighbors I got a tale to tell,

About a man named Doc Brandon and the trouble he sells,

Gold snake cane, Colt on his side,

When he walks this street even the wind hides

Boot heels echo like a coffin nail,

Dust kicks up like a ghostly trail,

Mamas hush when they hear his name,

Kids don't dare play outlaw games

So bar your doors and dim that light,

Pray he don't come ridin' tonight,

If you hear that cane on the wooden floor,

Don't make a sound, don't move, don't war.

'Cause the devil himself don't take command,

When he's dealin' cards with Doc Brandon's hand.

They say he smiled when the sheriff fell,

Left his star in a wishing well,

Ain't no judge gonna bring him down,

He writes his law in every town.

That gold snake cane got a wicked gleam,

Some folks swear that it's cursed, it seems,

And that Colt don't miss, don't shake, don't stall,

When Doc Brandon draws... you best not draw at all.

So bar your doors and dim that light,

Pray he don't come ridin' tonight,

If you hear that cane on the wooden floor,

Don't make a sound, don't move, don't war.

'Cause the devil himself don't take command,

When he's dealin' cards with Doc Brandon's hand

Some say he came from a hangman's noose,

Cut himself down and turned death loose,

Others claim he ain't born of man,

Just a shadow walkin' this cursed land.

You might see him where the lanterns die,

With a cold, dead look in his eye,

And if he tips that hat your way...

You best be gone 'fore the break of day.

So bar your doors and dim that light,

Ain't no savin' you tonight,

When that snake cane taps, it's already done,

No place to hide, nowhere to run.

Say your prayers, take your stand—

Or meet your fate with Doc Brandon's hand.

So neighbors heed what I just said,

Keep your distance from the living dead,

'Cause out on the trail where the lost souls stand...

Rides the legend... Doc Brandon.