Down in Arizona lived a man named Peter Gabriel,
who chose one day ta' accept the wearin' of a star.
It was back in the eighteen-eighties,
in a place called Pima County.
Though some were against it, others were not,
an' thought the badge might take him quite far.
But as it turned out some things were askew,
involving one of his deputies, Joe Phy.
His conduct was unbecoming an' his record rather poor,
an' his guilt was such a burden he couldn't look ya' in the eye.
Then fer' bein' drunk an' disorderly
Gabriel gave Phy the boot.
An' followed that by arrestin' the ex-deputy
in Casa Grande fer' assault: he was bein' a brute.
Yet with the townsfolk torn between loyalties
they simply added fuel ta' the fire.
So Phy was cut loose, then made a bid fer' election;
ta' take Gabriel's star was his only desire.
Five years of feudin' an' Phy failed again,
it seemed Lady Luck bid adieu.
So Phy figured he'd make his own luck now,
an' guarantee that Gabriel was thru.
It started with drinkin' ta' get up the nerve,
then he sought his arch enemy out.
In the town of Florence, the day was May 3rd,
he found him at a bar an' gave out a shout.
"Come face me now, if ya' got the nerve.
Yer' day of comeuppance is here."
Inside the saloon the sheriff stayed calm
as he gulped down the rest of his beer.
He then stepped thru the door, an' into the street,
an' the two commenced ta' throw lead.
Eleven shots fired between the two,
but only one ended up dead.
Gabriel took one ta' the chest an' one ta' the groin,
quite painful, but still he did live.
Yet he put several shots into Phy
who died like a bloody sieve.
When Gabriel recovered they put him on trial,
an' found it was pure self-defense.
Phy pushed fer' the play, he sought only revenge,
but was given his own death sentence.
No tears were shed fer' the ex-deputy,
he died like he lived, just a fool.
On the other hand though, Gabriel carried on many years
with the badge and the gun as his tools.