When the handbill says “dead or alive”, the rest of us just shoot you in the back from up on top a perch somewhere, and bring you in dead over a saddle. But when John Ruth, The Hangman, catches you, you don’t die by a bullet in the back. When The Hangman catches you, you hang.
Everybody keep your mouth shut and do like I say. You open your mouth; you gonna get a bullet. You move a little sudden, a little strange; you gonna get a bullet. Not a warning, not a question; a bullet.
We gonna die, white boy. We ain’t got no say in that. But there’s one thing left we do have a say in. And that’s how we kill this bitich.
Them peckawoods left their homes and families, and come up to this snowy mountain,lookin’ for me and fortune. None of them found fortune. The ones you ain’t ever heard of no more, they found me.