Shirley the Outlaw

Hear that six string whine on a dusty road. They call her Shirley,

ain't nobody safe tonight. Well, she rolls into town with a

razor smile. Stetson low and a mean exile. Whiskey breath and

a pistol by her side. Leavin' broken bones for the devil to decide.

Shirley's bustin' skulls country style. Seven miles of trouble in every mile.

When you see that glare in her iron eye, you best hit the dirt or

say goodbye. She's got scars that tell a thousand tales. Blood red sunset

in her rebel trails. No law man stands a chance in her land.