Text: The Uptones. Bad Men Of Bodie.
It smelled so wrong, one hundred men strong,
At night they stole our might,
But cowards don't count, only the brave face
the loss and pay the cost,
These days turning into years, I'm getting stronger
while they're sitting holding up the bar,
Just a ghost town day, I hear every word they say,
Cos the wind carry it that far,
Still the bad men of Bodie,
buried but they don't die,
run for they must try,
but you can't steal the treasure from the brave men of Bodie
It's been a while since WC checked in
and now he's here to settle up the score,
shoulda known better than to mess with the man
ya don't know what he's fighting for,
Some of them turn and most of them learn and
they seek no reason why,
They pay to come, they pay to go,
dressing the devil for the Sunday show
The bad men of Bodie,
buried but they don't die,
run for they must try,
but you can't steal the treasure from the brave men of old Bodie
Tomorrow's sun will rise but you wont see it cos ya
cashed in your chips this time,
In the high desert cold, you may never grow old,
and they turn no water into wine
Still the bad men of Bodie,
buried but they don't die,
run for they must try,
but you can't steal the treasure from the brave men of old Bodie
At night they stole our might,
But cowards don't count, only the brave face
the loss and pay the cost,
These days turning into years, I'm getting stronger
while they're sitting holding up the bar,
Just a ghost town day, I hear every word they say,
Cos the wind carry it that far,
Still the bad men of Bodie,
buried but they don't die,
run for they must try,
but you can't steal the treasure from the brave men of Bodie
It's been a while since WC checked in
and now he's here to settle up the score,
shoulda known better than to mess with the man
ya don't know what he's fighting for,
Some of them turn and most of them learn and
they seek no reason why,
They pay to come, they pay to go,
dressing the devil for the Sunday show
The bad men of Bodie,
buried but they don't die,
run for they must try,
but you can't steal the treasure from the brave men of old Bodie
Tomorrow's sun will rise but you wont see it cos ya
cashed in your chips this time,
In the high desert cold, you may never grow old,
and they turn no water into wine
Still the bad men of Bodie,
buried but they don't die,
run for they must try,
but you can't steal the treasure from the brave men of old Bodie