Well, If not your favorite, at least one of your favorites. Hope this thread has some interesting words that get lost in good music, but do just as well on their own. This is "Billy Morgan" by The Men They Couldn't Hang. I'm sure it's about some real occurence in the history of Europe, although I haven't been able to discover what. Morgan, the man with no tan comes in, on the midday train. Takes a room in the pensionne down by the beach, Unwraps his pistol, counts out the bullets beside it, Four bullets, two men. It's certain with two bullets each. Down in the town, the old men sit 'round by the harbor. Watch as the tourists break all etiquette in the bars. At twilight the festival starts with a feast in the plaza. It's followed by music, wine, fireworks and cigars. Twilight arrives, the streets come alight. The mayor and the chief watch it begin. A girl on a bike turns very businesslike. Leave fifty grand and a pardon for the sin. So it's goodbye, Billy Morgan, Known from Amsterdam to Tripoli, You can taste your death in every silent breath. Fear the curse, thought the enemy. On Morgan's cheap TV, the ministers agree at the summit. In the room straight above, there's a couple making love with a cheer. Out across the water, the statue of christ throws a shadow, It falls across the city, to the window of the volunteer. On the Avenue de France, a beggar does the dance. Sells "Chocolate" to the army band en masse. The Guardia Civil get a tip about the kill. Morgan doubts, but no one's out to ask. So it's goodbye, Billy Morgan, Known from Amsterdam to Tripoli You can taste your death in every silent breath. Fear the curse, thought the enemy. The Festival's begun. Morgan tucks his gun inside his jacket. Walks toward the plaza singing "Boys of the old Brigade", If followed by a rifle, confronted by the guards at the corner, Lifts his hands like the statue and dies... in the fusilade. Now the gunfire's heard, someone gives the word. Fireworks crash, the marching band turns right. Someone in a mask throws a bomb, does the task. Rides off with the girl on the back of the motorbike. So it's goodbye, Billy Morgan, Known from Amsterdam to Tripoli, You can taste your death in every silent breath. Fear the curse, thought the enemy.