The Devil came in the night
Changed their hats black from white
At dawn the posse awoke
They gathered their gear
Trusted year after year
Not one good man noticed the joke
When they rode into town
To gun bad guys down
They frightened the Church going folk
A glimpse in the glass
Of themselves as they passed
Gave a warning most like a choke
Then all guns blazed away
But no bullet went stray
As if they were each one bespoke
The posse dead in the street
Black hats at their feet
Cross haired in the curling white smoke
Good men dead in the street
White hats at their feet
Cross haired in the curling Black Smoke