I'm moving out of Tombstone
With the sun behind my back,
I'm tired of people talking
Of the things that I did lack.
Ever since a week ago,
The day he passed away,
I've been taking too much notice
Of the things they've had to say.
And all they say
Is – you ain't half the man he used to be,
He had strength and he worked his life
To feed his family.
So if that's the way it has to be,
I'll say goodbye to you,
I'm not the guy, or so it seems,
To fill my old man's shoes.
Like I'm a wicked way of life,
The kind that should be tamed,
They'd like to see me locked in jail
And tied up in their chains
Oh! It's hard, and I can't see
What they want me to do, Lord,
They seem to think
I should step into my old man's shoes.