Here comes Injustice, on a white horse riding,
saddle and tack are all studded with gold,
with a snow-white hat and spurs of silver,
a diamond buckle on his buckskin belt,
his waistcoat braided with pieces of eight,
While his horse,
his faithful Trigger,
cuts a handsome figure
and pees eau-de-cologne.

Here comes Injustice, down Main Street trotting,
his shirt is whiter than an angel´s wing,
his teeth are the keys of a grand piano,
and that´s his geetar slung behind him -
ask him nicely, he´ll give you a tune,
And his breath
is an exhalation
like a double ration
of Mom´s apple pie.

Here comes Injustice, saloonward striding.
Badman´s there in his big brown hat,
the barkeep´s pouring shots of whisky,
the madam´s flashing her fishnet thighs,
the lawyer´s cheating the poker game,
And his gun
as he does his duty
is a thing of beauty
like his boyish grin.

Here stands Injustice, up and shooting,
down goes Badman, chock-full of holes,
down´s the barkeep, spluttering whisky,
madam´s down, with a red corsage,
lawyer´s holding his last full house,
And his words
as he leaves them sprawling
are worth recalling –
“Have a nice day!”

Off goes Injustice, boardwalk moseying,
horse unhitching, and off he rides,
singing a song as he fades into sundown,
telling of truth, and the law, and the land,
oh say do you see, and let freedom reign,
While his steed,
the aforesaid Trigger
emits a snigger
and pees Southern Comfort.