The coach, it pulled into the town, it opened up its door A lady with an eyepatch stepped down, black the cloak she wore A bona-fide cold-blooded killer, weathered by the war She still stood just to settle one last score So she rolled on into Tucson, .45 hung at her hip With a golden 'D' for Dalton, man, and if you gave her lip She'd tie your tongue, cut you down, then on your corpse she'd spit Oh that gal, sure had a certain kind of pride Now Cat Dalton, she was one of seven sisters born out west To a good man, oh their padre tilled the land and tried his best But on from the day some desperados shot him through the head Those young Dalton daughters grew up seeing red Now it's thirty-some-odd years gone spent hunting for those men But by God, when they find them, oh they'll reconcile those sins And without a shiver, send those bandits to their bloody end Spell of powder smoke choking out their cries 'Cause there's no burn half as strong as that of sweet revenge upon The hellhounds who done slashed down your own kind And upon the path to healing Through the teardrops flowing by May the fire of retribution spur the ride But now the barren desert grapevines, they don't often bare much fruit And it's been many a tombstone-gambler died there searching for a clue But although the odds Cat Dalton played were one-in-Timbuktu Down near San Antone, 1862 There, tucked away in south Bejar County, in some old broke-down opium shack Cat, she overheard a highwayman who'd been to hell and back And he swore upon his soul those outlaws who killed the Dalton man They were cooking plans for trouble on that Tucson stage coach line 'Cause there was untold loads of Greyback gold set to be heading out on a trek And those bloodhound dogs thought they'd have a time So with the west wind toward her shoulder, Cat rode through day and night And when she found her sisters, she told them black-and-white That the time was nigh for one last final fight So on the mountain path to Tucson there's a gap called Apache Pass And those Daltons knew those outlaws knew that point was made to clash And so when that wagon train rolled up, just sitting ducks with cash And the outlaws swept down on them, guns aflash Along the bluffs, the Dalton sisters saw the wagons start to stall So with rifles trained upon their foes, they picked a couple off Then they stormed down on that valley with all the vengeance of their Pa And lit those scallywags up like a funeral pyre And with the battle won Cat's deed was done, when then she glimpsed a pony limping away With two riders, one so minuscule as a child And as Cat galloped toward that horse and raised her gun to fire There sat a scared young cowgirl, her father at her side Begging 'Please, Ma'am, won't you spare my daddy's life?'
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