The Ballad of Irving

The Ballad of Irving
He was short and fat and rode out of the West
With a Magen David on his silver vest
He was mean nasty right clear through,
which was kind of weird ‘cause he was yellow, too
They called him Irving
Big Irving
Big, Short Irving
Big, Short, Fat Irving
The hundred and forty-second fastest gun in the West
Irving
Irving
He came from the old Bar Mitzvah spread
With a 10-gallon yarmulke on his head
He always followed his mother’s wishes
Even on the range he used two sets of dishes
Irving
Big, Fat Irving
Big Sissy Irving
The hundred and forty-second fastest gun in the West
Irving
Irving
A hundred and forty-one could draw faster than he
But Irving was looking for one forty-three
Walked Sol’s Saloon like a man insane
And ordered three fingers of two-cents plain
Irving
Big, Fat Irving
Big Sport Irving
The hundred and forty-second fastest gun in the West
Irving
Irving
One day Bad Max happened into town
His aim was to shoot Fat Irving down
Bad Max said “Draw, and draw right now”
And Irving drew—drew a picture of a cow
Irving
Big Fat Irving
Big Gun-fighter Irving
The hundred and forty-second fastest gun in the West
Irving
Irving
The James Boys was comin’ on the train at first sun
And the town said, “Irving, we need your gun.”
When that train pulled in at the break of dawn
Irving’s gun was there, but Irving was gone
Irving
Big, Fat Irving
Big help, Irving
The hundred and forty-second fastest gun in the West
Irving
Irving
Well, finally, Irving got three slugs in the belly
It was right outside the frontier deli
He was sittin’ there twirlin’ his gun around
And Butterfingers Irving gunned himself down
Irving
Big, Fat Irving
Big Dumb-dumb Irving
Big Dumb-dumb Dead Irving
The hundred and forty-second fastest gun in the West
Really…