Erastus Yager, aka Red,
earned his bounty with fear an' dread,
as an outlaw with the Sheriff Henry Plummer Gang.
They called themselves the Innocents,
though they'd never be mistaken fer' country gents,
cuz' they were meaner than a wounded polecat bearin' fangs.
They robbed the town of mucho money,
they killed fer' sport, an' thought it funny,
an' Yager figured he'd always have it made.
Yager wanted ta' live life large,
an' thought he could do it with Plummer in charge,
an' he'd do what he was told ta' make the grade.
He'd rob an' he'd steal,
an' shoot hot lead from cold steel,
as long as there was money fer' the takin'.
He even had no qualms
of takin' kids from moms,
if a ransom from the kin could be shaken.
But meanness trumps not intelligence,
which was lacking in most Innocents,
something Yager found out way too late.
Yager was sent with the dispatch
with the plans Plummer did hatch,
but vigilantes there did lay in wait.
In December they did hold him,
fer' his crimes they did scold him,
but they let him live while he squealed on others.
His meanness shrank away,
the coward squealed fer' days,
he blabbed non-stop about his outlaw brothers.
Fer' fear of the hangman's noose
Yager's tongue was really loose:
he spilled his guts in every conceivable way.
Twenty-six key members of the gang
were revealed when Yager sang,
an' vigilante justice was about ta' have its day.
The members fell one-by-one,
they danced in the air or dropped by the gun,
living large cost all of them their breath.
An' in Stinking Valley on January 4th,
in eighteen-sixty an' four,
Erastus Yager had his date with death.
I'm sure that Yager thought
with squealin' he had bought
his freedom from the hands of the vigilantes.
But the consequence of sin
had finally done him in,
an' he couldn't help but piss his man-size panties.
It's said, "confession is good for the soul,"
but the only ones that would know
find it hard ta' turn back an' tell.
Cuz' they're the good or bad,
the happy an' the sad,
who have already gone ta' heaven or hell.