(gun shots ring out wind blows) Verse 1 Down in Georgia in fifty-one, a boy was born to ride, John Henry Holliday was the name they gave with pride. He studied hard and learned his trade, a dentist young and bright, But fate came calling with a cough in the middle of the night. Verse 2 The doctors said, "Head west, my son, where the desert air is dry," So he packed his bags and left his home beneath the Southern sky. The cards replaced the dental chair, the whiskey eased the pain, And every dusty cattle town soon learned to know his name. Chorus Oh Doc Holliday, with death upon your trail, A gambler's hand, a gunslinger's stand, a ghostly face gone pale. You laughed at fate and dealt the cards while sickness took its toll, Riding through the Wild West wind with fire inside your soul. Verse 3 In Fort Griffin one hot summer, a restless spirit came, Big Nose Kate, fierce and proud, was Mary by her name. They fought like storms and loved like flame, two hearts that wouldn't bend, Through every jail and saloon fight she'd stand by him again. Verse 4 Then Wyatt Earp became his friend out on the frontier line, Two men bound by loyalty in rough and dangerous times. They rode to Tombstone, Arizona, where trouble filled the air, And whispers of a coming fight were drifting everywhere. Chorus Oh Doc Holliday, with death upon your trail, A gambler's hand, a gunslinger's stand, a ghostly face gone pale. You laughed at fate and dealt the cards while sickness took its toll, Riding through the Wild West wind with fire inside your soul. Bridge At the O.K. Corral they stood, and history took aim, Smoke and thunder filled the street, and legends earned their fame. The years rolled on, the coughing grew, the price became too high, But no one ever saw the fear behind old Doc's dark eyes. Final Verse Colorado mountain air could not turn the tide, The sickness he'd been fighting all those years stayed by his side. In Glenwood Springs he laid him down, only thirty-six years old, But the stories of Doc Holliday are forever to be told. Final Chorus Oh Doc Holliday, your name still rides the plains, Through poker halls and cattle trails and Arizona rain. With Wyatt, Kate, and Tombstone days forever in the roll, The dentist turned to legend still rides the Western soul.
