"Billy rode on a pinto horse Billy the Kid I mean And he met Clyde Barrow riding In a little gray machine Billy drew his bridle rein And Barrow stopped his car And the dead man talked to the living man Under the morning star Billy said to the Barrow boy Is this the way you ride In a car that does its ninety per Machine guns at each side? I only had my pinto horse And my six-gun tried and true I could shoot but they got me And someday they will get you! For the men who live like you and me Are playing a losing game And the way we shoot, or the way we ride Is all about the same And the like of us may never hope For death to set us free For the living are always after you And the dead are after me Then out of the East arose the sound Of hoof-beats with the dawn And Billy pulled his rein and said I must be moving on And out of the West came the glare of a light And the drone of a motor's song And Barrow set his foot on the gas And shouted back, "So long" So into the East, Clyde Barrow rode And Billy, into the West The living man who can know no peace And the dead who can know no rest"

- Bonnie & Clyde