Song rise
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Pancho was a bandit boy,
his horse was fast as polished steel
He wore his gun outside his pants
For all the honest world to feel
Pancho met his match, you know,
on the deserts down in Mexico
Nobody heard his dyin words,
ah but that's the way it goes
All the Federales say,
they could've had him any day
They only let him slip away,
out of kindness, I suppose
