Lyrics by Michael Schøn Poulsen
Music by Michael Schøn Poulsen, Volbeat

{GUITAR INTERLUDE SOLO}

A man appeared before Wells Fargo. Wells Fargo's stage driver man
Wearing a long white linen and a dust flour sack over his head

Pointed a double barreled shotgun at the driver and forced him to halt
"Please throw down your box, Sir, and Madame please I don't need your money or pearls"

They call him Black Bart P08, the highway bandit po8try man
Leaving his poem disappeared like a ghost on his own, all on his own - The road he owns

Rise Black Bart rise I'm calling, calling your spirit out
Dust off your hat and hatchet, there are boxes out there with your name and mark

The road has been cold and lonely, the road has been out of good tales
Let's shake up some dust, we'll be opening the box like before, just like before and leave a poem

{GUITAR SOLO}

(Black Bart 1877:)
For honor and for riches
I've labored long and hard for the bread
But on my corns too long you tread
You fine haired sons of bitches

A man appeared before Wells Fargo. Wells Fargo's stage driver man
Wearing a long white linen and a dust flour sack over his head

They call him Black Bart P08, the highway bandit po8try man
Leaving his poem disappeared like a ghost on his own, all on his own - The road he owns

{GUITAR SOLO}

(Black Bart 1877:)
For honor and for riches
I've labored long and hard for the bread
But on my corns too long you tread
You fine haired sons of bitches

{OUTRO GUITAR SOLO}

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