Bad Blood

(Gunfire.)
Not long ago in a one-horse town down south of Santa Fe
A one-eyed half-breed amputee sat thinkin' of the way
He'd settle the score with that runnin' sore
Who had left him the way he is:
One-armed, half-blind and crippled in his mind;
And he, that amputee, could not forgive.
He swore to kill the stranger for this one bad thing he'd done:
For three long years he practised until he could use the gun.
Heart of stone, he lived alone and he lived on beans and eggs;
Folks could tell what time it was by the gravy running down his legs.
Bad blood... will drive you crazy
Bad blood... I've heard men say
Bad blood... is like an egg stain on your chin
You can lick it but it still won't go away
Four more years he roamed the land till his legs was worn away.
Then he bummed around from town to town: "Has a stranger passed this way?
The man I'm lookin' for has two eyes but he's a one-breed dirty dog.
When I find him I'm gonna shoot him...
[Spoken] Don't you laugh at me! 'Cos man, ah, I'm really pissed."
The stagecoach jingle-jangled into town one hot mid-afternoon;
He saw the stranger get off near the Seborrhoea Saloon,
And just as he was easin' in, a lumberjack rolled out.
He shot him dead, then One-Eye said:
[Spoken] "Hey you, mutton-head! I've been lookin' for that particular son-of-a-bitch for nearly seven years, man! You've just spoiled everything! I could have been a doctor or an architect!"
Bad blood... will drive you crazy (Demented laugh)
Bad blood... I've heard men say
Bad blood... is like an egg stain on your chin
You can lick it but it still won't go away