Caleb Hyles
It’s High Noon
Stopped you dead in your tracks
A flash and he’s at your back
And his pistol starts to draw

You can see in his eye
A villain that’s deep inside
And the hammer starts to fall

Outlaw bourbon drinking
Gunslinging Justice-bringing
Straight shooting
Son of a gun

He’s a no-good gallivanting
Peacekeeping vigilante
Train Hopping
Man on the run

And the sun in the sky...
It’s hanging like high noon
It’s High Noon

With a hat and cigar
A cape and a metal arm
And a classic western Charm
Used to roll with a gang
But then he left with a bang
And the bullet found it’s mark

Outlaw, bourbon drinking
Gunslinging Justice-bringing
Straight-shootin son of a gun

He’s a no-good gallivanting
Peacekeeping vigilante
Train-hopping man on the run

And the sun in the sky...
It’s hanging like high noon
It’s High Noon

A fistful of pistol
His hat tipped, chin grizzled
A death wish from the hip
That glistened and whistled
And reloads with skilled rolls
Bullets whizzed and ripped holes
With quick wits and true grit
His wrist hot, the dish cold

It’s High Noon!
It’s High Noon!
It’s High Noon!