Lyrics
Verse 1
October twenty-sixth, eighteen eighty-oneCold wind down on Fremont, under a winter sunFour men in long coats walkin' side by sideVirgil said "throw up your hands," and nobody could hideBehind the O.K. Corral, in a narrow little lotThirty seconds later, there were thirty shots
Chorus
Thirty seconds, Tombstone, that's all it tookTo carve your name in every Western history bookFrom the O.K. Corral to the Boothill stonesThe Epitaph keeps tellin' the tales of the bonesSo pour another round, let the legends rideThirty seconds, Tombstone, you're too tough to die
Verse 2
John Clum came to town with a press and a dreamEighteen eighty, May, ink still runnin' cleanSaid "no Tombstone is complete without its epitaph"His friends said that name would kill it, now who gets the last laugh"Earp brothers justified" in bold across the pageAnd the Tombstone Epitaph is still printin' to this day
Chorus
Thirty seconds, Tombstone, that's all it tookTo carve your name in every Western history bookFrom the O.K. Corral to the Boothill stonesThe Epitaph keeps tellin' the tales of the bonesSo pour another round, let the legends rideThirty seconds, Tombstone, you're too tough to die
Bridge
Up on Boothill, the McLaurys and Billy Clanton lieWooden markers fadin' under that big desert skyAnd old Les Moore took four slugs from a forty-fourWhether it's truth or a tall tale, there ain't no Les no more
Final Chorus
Thirty seconds, Tombstone, that's all it tookTo carve your name in every Western history bookFrom the O.K. Corral to the Boothill stonesThe Epitaph keeps tellin' the tales of the bonesSo pour another round, let the legends rideThirty seconds, Tombstone, you're too tough to dieYeah, Tombstone, you're too tough to die