Pancho was a bandit, boys, [his horse fast] and his hands were free
He wore his gun outside his pants for all the honest world to feel
Pancho met his match, ya know, on the desert down in Mexico
No one heard the dyin' words, but that's the way it goes.
All the Federales say, they could'a had him any day
They only let him go so long, out of kindness I suppose.
Great lyrics... credit to Townes Van Zant http://www.townesvanzandt.com/