On a summer's day in August, a man came into townHe rode a big black stallion, he was dressed in black and brownHis hair was long and wavy, pulled back in a ponytailHis face and hands were leathery from his years on the trailHe wore a pair of shiny coats, his belt all filled with leadHe knew if you were on the run with a price put on your headHe stopped at the sheriff's office for the news about McBealHe was this reckless outlaw and he wanted to makea dealThomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple bonesHe knows when you've crossed with the lawThomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple bonesHe's the quickest bounty hunter on the drawBut the sight of Thomas at the doorMade the sheriff's office go wildHe knew his reputation well, so he could hardly speakHe tracked that outlaw named McBeal straight into the barAnd folks went mighty quiet, how could this come so far?He said, McBeal, your bones are mine, I've come to take you inYour days of crime are overAnd it's time to face your fateIt's your sinMcBeal just laughed and drew his gunHe didn't mind the lawThen he drew his final breathHe was the slowest on the drawThomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple bonesHe knows when you've crossed with the lawThomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple bonesHe's the quickest bounty hunter on the drawSo you better learn this lessonYou better be awareStay on the path of justiceBe sure if you don't careCause if you cross the lines of lawNo one can save your soulI'm telling you the honest truthYou'll face them all againAt Thomas JonesThomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple bonesHe knows when you've crossed with the lawThomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple bonesHe's the quickest bounty hunter on the drawThomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple soulsSo you better knowThey do belong to Thomas JonesYeah, Thomas Jones, Thomas Jones, he collects your simple bonesSo your bones, they do belong to Thomas Jones