Here lies Les Moore
Four slugs from a forty-four
No Les no more
Out in Arizona, just south of Tucson
Where tumbleweeds tumble in search of a home
There's a town they call Tombstone
Where the brave never cry
They live by a six-gun, by a six-gun they die
It's been a long time now since the town was a boon
The jailhouse is empty, so's the Palace Saloon
Just one look will tell you that this town was real
A secluded old dirt road leads up to Boot Hill
Walk up to the fence there and look at the view
That's where they were hangin', eighteen-eighty-two
It's easy to see where the brave men died
Rope marks on the old tree are now petrified
At night, when the moon shines so far away
It gets mighty lonesome, lookin' down on their graves
There lies Billy Klen; never wanted to kill
But he's there with the guilty, way up on Boot Hill