Duncan, Duncan was tending the bar In walks Brady with his shiny star Brady says, "Duncan, you are under arrest" Duncan shot a hole in Brady's breast Brady carried a Forty-Five Said it would shoot a half a mile Duncan carried a Forty-Four That's what laid Mister Brady so low Brady fell down on the barroom floor "Please Mister Duncan don't shoot me no more" Women all cryin', ain't it a shame Shot King Brady, gonna shoot him again Mister Brady, Mister Brady, you know you done wrong You busted in my parlour when the game was goin' on Knocking down the tables, breaking down the door Now you're dripping blood on my barroom floor Well, the women all heard, Brady was dead They go back home and they dresses in red Sniffing and a sighing down the street In their big mother hubbards and their stockinged feet