- Голоса:
Kyle Evans - Текст песни Mr. Shorty
Nobody knew where he came from
 They only knew he came in
 Slowly he walked to the end of the bar
 And he ordered up one slug of gin.
 Well, I could see that he wasn't a large man
 I could tell that he wasn't too tall
 I judged him to be about five-foot three
 And his voice was a soft Texas drawl.
 Said he was needin' some wages
 'Fore he could ride for the west
 Said he could do most all kind of work
 Said he could ride with the best.
 There in his blue eyes was sadness
 That comes from the need of a friend
 And tho' he tried, he still couldn't hide
 The loneliness there, deep within.
 Said he would work thru the winter
 For thirty a month and his board
 I started to say where he might land a job
 When a fellow came in thru the door.
 And I could tell he was lookin' for trouble
 From the way that he came stompin' in
 He told me to leave Shorty there by himself
 Come down and wait on a man.
 The eyes of the little man narrowed
 The smile disappeared from his face
 Gone was the friendliness that I had seen
 And a wild look of hate took its' place.
 But the big one continued to mock him
 And he told me that I'd better go
 Find him a couple of glasses of milk
 Then maybe Shorty would grow.
 When the little man spoke, there was stillness
 He made sure that everyone heard
 Slowly he stepped away from the bar
 And I still remember these words.
 "Oh, it's plain that you're lookin' for trouble
 Trouble's what I try to shunKyle Evans - Mr. Shorty - http://ru.motolyrics.com/kyle-evans/mr-shorty-lyrics.html
 But if that's what you want, then that's what you'll get
 'Cause cowboy, we're both packin' guns!"
 His hand was already positioned
 Feet wide apart on the floor
 I hadn't noticed but there on his hip
 Was a short-barreled Bat Forty-Four.
 It was plain he was ready and waitin'
 He leaned a bit forward and said, 
 "When you call me Shorty, say Mister, my friend -
 Or maybe you'd rather be dead!"
 In the room was a terrible silence
 As the big one stepped out on the floor
 All drinkin' stopped and the tick of the clock
 Said death would wait ten seconds more.
 Well, he cursed once or twice in a whisper
 And said, with a snarl on his lips, 
 "Nobody's Mister to me, little man!"
 And he grabbed for the gun on his hip.
 But the little man's hands was like lightning
 The Bat Forty-Four was the same
 The Forty-Four spoke and it sent lead and smoke
 And seventeen inches of flame.
 Oh, the big one had never cleared leather
 Beaten before he could start
 A little round hole had appeared on his shirt
 The bullet went clear thru his heart.
 The little man stood there a moment
 Then holstered the Bat Forty-Four
 "It's always this way, so I never stay."
 Slowly he walked out the door.
 Nobody knew where he came from
 But they won't forget he came by
 They won't forget how a Forty-Four gun
 One night made the difference in size.
 As for me, I'll remember the sadness
 Shown in the eyes of the man
 If we meet someday, you can bet I would say
 That "It's me, Mr. Shorty, your friend!"










