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It was the second half

Of the nineteenth century

The old West story was written

With pickaxe and guns.

Three brothers born under

The star of the law, a shiny one

Scene of this battle

Was a town named Tombstone

Silver and lead were pulled

Out with profusion

The first came from veins,

While the other one from corpses

Upright into the gunfights

Gunpowder fills the air

Bold and without mercy

The deadly arm of the law

The sun was shining high

In the sky that afternoon

Dressed in black

Four men walked down the road

Not a single sound came from the streets,

The calm before the storm

Thirty gunshots

Shook down the Ok Corral

Thirty seconds

To reap their sinner's souls

The scum from Arizona

Has been swept out

From Cochise county

Upright into the gunfights

The doctor at his side

A brother to avenge

The last charge

Of Wyatt's Immortals

With fire in their eyes

And thunder in their hands

The last charge

Of Wyatt's Immortals