Another midnight on an old dusty road,
the lady in black flies off again,
a run away stagecoach, and not a single friend,
her hair tied in a knot so perfectly.

Scarlet locks, and blue glowing eyes,
rumor has it she killed her husband,
smiling as she watched him die,
she paid her dues in his abusive times.

When she had enough, she rid of herself of his crime,
she became no one's fool, tired of too much whine,
all the gentlemen asked for a piece of her time,
but, she kept on passing them by.

Headed back to the old homestead, around midnight,
don't look her in her moon glow eyes,
never make the mistake of thinking she is lonesome,
she'll purge all her sins to achieve atonement,
in her black velvet purse, with her pistol in pearl tint.

When the coach slides into town she is quite the site,
as she mounts her dead husband's horse and rides,
she rides him better than a man would like,
the woman in black the widowed outlaw's wife.