In the little town of Cimarron, out on the Kansas plain,

'twas there I met the blue-eyed gal, who stole my heart away;

Though I had been a drifter, when I rode into this town,

I finally found the prairie flower, who made me settle down.

For the first time I was happy, I wanted love to last,

It wouldn't do to tell my Rose, about my wicked past;

For I had been a hired gun, running from the law,

But in her eyes, her one true love was all she ever saw.

One night upon the boardwalk, 'neath the lamps of Cimarron,

Hand in hand my Rose and I were walking all alone;

Oh the streets were strangely silent, not another there in sight,

I'd give my soul if I had known what lie ahead that night.

From the livery across the way, a man called out my name,

From the shadows up and down the street, the other rifles came;

Said he was the law from Abileen, he was there to take me in,

That my days of hiring out to kill had finally reached an end.

Oh my pretty Rose was terrified, she dropped my hand to run,

Then somewhere from a building top, came the firing of a gun;

A bullet that was meant for me, it killed my darling wife,

Filled with rage, I drew my gun although it meant my life.

On a hill just North of Cimarron, they buried Rose and I,

And sometimes in the prairie night, you can hear my darling cry;

Betrayed by the one she loves the most, her spirit lingers on,

Forever on the boardwalks of the Streets Of Cimarron.