To the town of Swan Cantico rode a stranger one fine day

Hardly spoke to folks around him didn't have too much to say

No one dared to ask his business no one dared to make a slip

for the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip

Big iron on his hip

It was early in the morning when he rode into the town

He came riding from the south side slowly lookin' all around

He's an outlaw loose and running came the whisper from each lip

And he's here to do some business with the big iron on his hip

big iron on his hip

You hear about the stranger as soon as he comes into town. Leaning against the bar, hoping that no one will see you and want your services, you listen to the talk about him. He's tall and gruff, he's another outlaw on the run. He's just passing through, he's here to tear the town up. He's on a mission to avenge his lover's death. You're sure it makes no difference what his past is. Everyone is right to be wary about the large silver Colt on his hip. This is a rough town, he should be wary of showing that to the wrong people. They say he walks like a man accustomed to the weight of that gun, both the physical and mental one. That he's an avenging angel, a Michael on the run.

The saloon doors swing wide and even without the resulting silence, you would have known it was him. The sun catches on the first thing to make it through the door, the iron. Then his silver five-pointed star buckle on the breast pocket of his dusty, travel-worn shirt. His bow-legged swagger does nothing to appease the crowds that he isn't a ruffian, his emerald eyes and bright smile only make the men grow nervous. But you think you see something past that cock-sure grin, to something dark within.

You realize that he's here for a reason. And it's sitting on his hip.

In this town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red

Many men had tried to take him and that many men were dead

He was vicious and a killer though a youth of twenty four

And the notches on his pistol numbered one an nineteen more

One and nineteen more

Now the stranger started talking made it plain to folks around

Was an Arizona ranger that wouldn't be too long in town

He came here to take an outlaw back alive or maybe dead

And he said it didn't matter he was after Texas Red

After Texas Red

When the ranger takes his hat off and rests at the bar, you see something in his profile that makes you gasp. He doesn't hear you, not over the low rumble that sounds through the saloon. But that profile is familiar to you, because it belongs to the outlaw that controls this town. That outlaw came two years ago and desecrated your tiny peaceful town. He wreaks havoc wherever he goes and you aren't the only one that thinks he's the devil incarnate. There's something off-kilter about the young man that hides out in the valley just outside the town. And while he's a youthful face it's marred by the scent of decay. He's a giant with a fast draw and an eye for bringing the apocalypse within the town.

And the outlaw carries the same looks as the ranger at the bar.

But that revelation is nothing compared to the shock you get when you hear the declaration that the outlaw just rode in. Or to the one that fills you when the ranger stands and checks the big iron on his hip.

Wasn't long before the story was relayed to Texas Red

But the outlaw didn't worry, men that tried before were dead

Twenty men had tried to take him and twenty men had made a slip

Twenty one would be the ranger with the big iron on his hip

Big iron on his hip

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

Your heart is in your throat. You want to reach out and grab the ranger by his leather duster –covered shoulder. Beg the man with the handsome freckled face to let the outlaw be. That while he'll bring the town to its' knees, you don't want to see that expression on the ranger's angel face. But he walks on, head high, big iron shining with every step. You think that if he turns just right, wings so blindingly bright would shine out from his broad shoulders.

You look around and wonder if anyone else has felt the depth of the situation. Something in your gut tells you that this is more than a ranger and his bounty. More than revenge. This is life and death, heaven versus hell.

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

One shot. One single shot brings peace once again to your tiny dusty town. Your life's apocalypse has been averted by the ranger with the big iron on his hip. The outlaw was no match, they say. The devil was gone, stopped in his tracks. It's no surprise to anyone that the outlaw's body fades away, ashes to ashes and dust to dust in mere moments. He was evil after all. He had it coming. They say he froze the second the ranger stepped into view. That the ranger was so deadly even the outlaw knew.

But you realize it then, as you see the ranger walk away.

It was over in a moment and the folks had gathered round

There before them lay the body of the outlaw on the ground

Oh he might have went on living but he made one fatal slip

When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip

Big iron on his hip

You watch the ranger saddle up and you're the only one to see the tears that slide down his sun-burned cheeks. You're the only one to wonder, as the ranger rides away, why the big iron is cocked and ready to aim. You watch him ride out of town. You feel it in your bones the way that you know what color your own eyes are, that the gun will get only one more use today.

Because when you saw the outlaw hit and his body hit the ground you were slapped with the realization that he was nothing more than a young boy. A young boy that froze at the sight of the ranger.

At the sight of his brother.

And you thank God in any way you can, for the angel that rode into town with the big iron on his hip. Your prayers intensify when you hear the faintest sound on the outskirts of town. The big iron bangs one last time.