Lyrics

A young man rode in Telluride
June 24 1889
Held up the bank, old San Miguel
Stick it in the bag or we’ll blow you to hell
Out rode the posse, with a horse relay
On to robbers roost, the outlaw trail

Who are the bank robbers?

Outlaws lived life on the run
Butch Cassidy and a real wild bunch
Stealing from rich didn’t seem a grave sin
The powers sent the Pinkertons
Greedy men don’t pull triggers on guns
They cover their trail, grand corruption

Who are the bank robbers?

Faceless men, dodgy deals
Drive the stock and reap the yields
In dinner suits they hunt fresh meat
Wolves are howling on Wall Street

Who are the bank robbers?
Who are the bank robbers now?