When our good old sheriff shuffled off to guard the streets of gold,
We were left without a guardian of the law.
Then a black-clad rider pinned a star of lead upon his chest
And told the townsfolk that he was the law.
The bank vault emptied like a drop of water in the sand.
The cattle run off to his own corral.
Horse thieves have took over from the honest stable hand.
Good farms have turned to dusty chaparral.
Dark Star—hide your women and your wares!
Dark Star—’bout your troubles doesn’t care!
Dark Star—Cross his orders if your dare!
Will we ever see the end of Dark Star?
There’s Jesse James, Billie the Kid, there’s Bonnie and her Clyde,
Would shoot up banks and stores and rob them blind.
They’d leave a little silver when the hungry children cried.
But Dark Star never leaves a crumb behind.
Someday his robbing spree will end, of this the townsfolk hope,
And justice will return and peace as well,
By shootout, apoplexy or the loop end of a rope.
Then he’ll lead his demon posse into Hell.
Music and lyrics copyright © 2025 by Jean Edouard Pouliot. Distributable with attribution.
Video generated using iMovie. Image generated using Canva AI.
