Well, the Lone Ranger and Tonto
They are ridin´ down the line
Fixin´ ev´rybody´s troubles
Ev´rybody´s ´cept mine
Somebody musta tol´ ´em
That I was doin´ fine

Oh you five and ten cent women
With nothin´ in your heads
I got a real gal I´m lovin´
And Lord I´ll love her till I´m dead
Go away from my door and my window too
Right now

Lord, I ain´t goin´ down to no race track
See no sports car run
I don´t have no sports car
And I don´t even care to have one
I can walk anytime around the block

Well, the wind keeps a-blowin´ me
Up and down the street
With my hat in my hand
And my boots on my feet
Watch out so you don´t step on me

Well, lookit here buddy
You want to be like me
Pull out your six-shooter
And rob every bank you can see
Tell the judge I said it was all right
Yes!