Kevin "Blackie" Farrell's masterpiece. You know who have written a great song when it is covered by great songwriters. First recorded by Bill Kirchen in 1977 then by Leo Kottke, Robert Earl Keen, Tom Russell, Michael Martin Murphy, Richard Shindell, Dave Alvin and Jeff Foucault. 

Regarding his inspiration, Farrell said: "I just envisioned a guy, saddling up his horse, riding off with his pals off the ranch, going into town just to blow off some steam on a Saturday night and winding up living a nightmare."

Thank you Mr. Farrell!

Sonora's Death Row

Kevin "Blackie" Farrell

Me and the boy's we cinched up our saddles

 And rode to Sonora last night

 Gun's hanging proud, daring out loud

 For anyone looking to fight

Card cheats and rustlers would run for their holes

 When the boys from the old broken O

 Rode up and reined on the street that they named

 Sonora's death row

Mescal is free at Amanda's saloon

 For the boy's from the old broken O

 Saturday nights in the town of Sonora

 Are the best in all Mexico

They've got guitars and trumpets and sweet senoritas

 Who won't want to let you go

 You'd never believe such a gay happy time

 On the street called Sonora's death row

Inside Amanda's we was a dancin'

 With all of Amanda's gals

 I won some silver at seven card stud

 So I was out doin' my pals

But the whiskey and mescal, peso cigars

 Drove me outside for some air

 Somebody whispered, "Your life or your money

 I reached, but my gun wasn't there"

I woke up face down in Amanda's back alley

 Aware of the fool I had been

 Rushed to my pony, grabbed my Winchester

 And entered Amanda's again

Where I saw my partners twirling my pistols

 And throwing my money around

 Blinded by anger, I jacked the lever

 And one of them fell to the ground

Amanda's got silent like night in the desert

 My friends stared in pure disbelief

 Amanda was kneeling beside the dead cowboy

 Plainly expressing her grief

And as I bowed my head a trembled shot through me

 My six-gun was still at my side

 I felt my pockets, there was my money

 I fell to my knees and I cried

A nightmare of mescal is all that it was

 For no one had robbed me at all

 I wish I was dreaming the sound of the gallows

 They're testing just outside the wall

And the mescal's still free at Amanda's saloon

 For the boy's from the old broken O

 I'd give a ransom to drink there today

 Be free of Sonora's death row

 Yes I'd give a ransom to drink there today

 Be free of Sonora's death row