A legendary figure of the West about whom not much is known for sure, so some people have made him into a Robin Hood and some have seen him as a punk caught in a range war and some as a cold-blooded killer. I alone see Billy as a crafty shape-shifter who made himself into a great success.
Billy the Kid
Didn’t do half of what they said he did
He rustled cattle, I guess that’s true,
But nobody knew who they belonged to
He killed some men, but if you knew ’em
You’d say they had it coming to ’em.
Billy the Kid went on the run
Down to Mesilla in 1881.
Sheriff Pat Garrett put on the heat
And came to the ranch of Billy’s friend Pete
But it wasn’t Billy who was shot by Pat,
It was someone wearing his pants and hat,
Billy the Kid was miles away
In Santa Fe with flowers in his hair
And I know ’cause I was there.
He made a fortune in fermented juices
And built a mansion in Las Cruces,
Changed his name to William Bonney,
Wrote “Way Down upon the Swanee”
And he may have been guilty to a degree
But he was always real good to me
And generous to my family.
Always sent us a Christmas turkey
From Albuquerque
And a bottle of brandy
From the Rio Grande.
They called him a killer and I guess he could be
But he was always good to me.
I spoke at his funeral in 1942.
He was living in Malibu,
Big house
On the beach.
I gave a nice speech.
People were impressed.
They didn’t know he was
The most famous outlaw in the West,
Feared from Tucson to Reno.
They knew him as Rudy Valentino.