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Caleb was eight when they found him
In the spring of '65
In a field where he hid while deserters rode in
And burned his whole family alive
48 miles away was a mission
Father Rhein took the boy in to raise
Said he'd never had told him to fire that gold navy
If he'd known the hell to be paid
But he gave young Caleb his Bible
And just before he rode off in the night
The boy held it up, and he smiled as he quoted
From Romans, "Vengeance is mine"
Now the newspapers call him a killer
And the common man calls him a saint
But in the land of the godforsaken
Sometimes they're one and the same
He took three of them down in El Paso
One more in a Kansas hotel
Someone heard him say, "This one's for mother"
As he sent the fifth one to hell
Now there's stories from Springfield to Denver
How this quiet man nobody knows
Has done what the local law wouldn't
Dodging bullets like some kind of ghost
And the newspapers call him a killer
And the common man calls him a saint
But in the land of the godforsaken
Sometimes they're one and the same
One and the same
Now the Pinkertons got tired of choking
On his gone dust again and again
So after a few years, they strung up a drifter
So this time they finally got their man
And the newspapers called him a killer
And the common man called him a saint
But in the land of the godforsaken
Sometimes they're one and the same
One and the same
Sometimes they're one and the same
Writer(s): Trent Wayne Willmon, Chancey Williams
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