So fill up your glasses,
And join in the song.
The law's right behind you,
And it won't take long.
So come, you coyotes
And howl at the moon,
Till there's blood upon the sawdust,
In The Last Chance Saloon.
With rings on their fingers
And bells on their toes
The girls come to Tombstone
In their high silk hose.
They'll dance on the tables
Or sing you a tune,
For whatever's in your wallet
At the Last Chance Saloon.
It's your last chance of boozing,
Where there's no-one to mind.
It's your last chance of losing
And the first place you'll find.
It's your last chance of earning
Your gunfighters fee.
The pay is in dollars,
But the bullets are free.
It's your last chance of cussing
At a gunfighters doom.
It's your last chance of nothing
It's the Last Chance Saloon.
So them bad, cruel outlaws
Are meeting up soon.
And they've drunk their last drink in
The Last-Chance Saloon.
It's the OK Corral, boys
Of gun fighting fame,
Where the Earps and the Clantons,
They played out their game.
They paid for their sins and
They lost on the draw.
For the Earps they was faster
And they was the law.
So beware all you cowboys
Who's yearning to sin.
If the Earps is the lawmen
You ain't gonna win.

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