The Galloping Gaucho comes to town, riding like a demon vaquero He bought his horse for half-a-crown and called it 'Scar faced Jock' Battered geetar on his back, poncho looking just like a light show All his welfare in a sack, he often travelled light He rode all through the night With a fleeting glance at a local dance And a cloud of dust in the morning The girls all stood and stared intentions undeclared For a six foot drip with a plastic whip He could not be compared Oh the Galloping Gaucho hits the town Made a date with Los Paraguayos Dressed in a pin striped suit of brown He wore his bowler hat Drinking wine and feeling fine When a dark haired girl appeared in a doorway Dressed in green like a gypsy queen She looked like dynamite! They rode all through the night With a farewell glance at the local dance and a cloud of dust in the morning The boys all stood and stared intentions undeclared For a brave Don Juan with a shaky hand He could not be compared Ohhh! The stack heeled cowboys in our town Are apt to think they're demon vaqueros Dressed in pin stripe suits of brown They think that we're uncool Shiny geetars on their backs Make up looking just like a light show Just avoiding income tax to get a little tight They ride all through the night With a far off glance at the local dance And a cloud of dust in the morning The girls all stood and stared, intentions undeclared To the boss eyed blade on his last crusade They could not be compared