Little Hacksaw Barnaby

(Verse 1) Out in the wild west, there's a tale to tell, Of a man named Barnaby, who you know so well. He stood five feet tall with a mustache so wide, But his lack of skills, he just couldn't hide. (Chorus) Oh, Little Hacksaw Barnaby, the legend of the land, With a big mustache and tiny hands. He couldn't shoot straight, couldn't ride a horse, But his tales of glory, he'd recite with force. (Verse 2) He tried to lasso cattle, but tangled up his feet, Got stuck in the prairie, couldn't take the heat. Tried his hand at poker, but he'd always lose, With a face like his, he couldn't bluff the blues. (Verse 3) He'd strut into the saloon, with swagger and pride, "Drinks on me!" he'd shout, but his pockets were dry. He'd spin wild yarns 'bout a bandit chase, But tripped on his boots and fell flat on his face. (Verse 4) Tried to be a blacksmith, swung a hammer with a clunk, Missed the anvil by a mile, hit a barrel full of junk. Even as a cook, he was quite a mess, Burned beans and bacon, caused quite the distress. (Chorus) Oh, Little Hacksaw Barnaby, the legend of the land, With a big mustache and tiny hands. He couldn't shoot straight, couldn't ride a horse, But his tales of glory, he'd recite with force. (Verse 5) So here's to Barnaby, with his great big 'stache, In the wild west story, he's the one to last. No skills to brag, but a heart so grand, The funniest fella in the whole wide land. (Outro) Oh, Little Hacksaw Barnaby, the legend of the land, With a big mustache and tiny hands. He couldn't shoot straight, couldn't ride a horse, But his tales of glory, he'd recite with force.