My woman Sally rode shotgun, For the Painted Desert Gang. Robbin' banks and drinking liquor, Screaming wild in his black Mustang.
Five, ten, fifteen,twenty, Shot-gun shells did fall a-plenty. As my woman Sally loaded once more, The Painted Desert's painted whore.
But one by one they was rounded up, And when the stern court did resume, The men they found all guilty, And hanged at this high noon.
But my woman Sally she did walk free - Innocence found in her so young, A pity she did not consider me, When I blew her face off, with her gun.