The Archer Gang was a set of four brothers,
Who took after the Reno’s and a slew of others.
Their reign of crime
Spanned decades of time
And they share the blame with moral-less fathers and mothers.
The Archers robbed stagecoaches, travelers, and trains.
Then they hid among kin like wheat among grains.
The Dalton’s and James,
The Fords and other lames,
Had similar families with outlaw-like brains.
They played the “good neighbor” until money ran low,
Then they grabbed pistols and shotguns and got up to go.
They roamed far and wide
To fleece others then hide,
But their years of success just darkened each soul.
After years on the run a mad posse came callin’.
And when their women-folk heard they all started bawlin’.
Tom, John, and Mort,
Vigilantes did abort
With nooses ’round necks that sparked caterwaulin’.
The youngest brother Sam made it to trial,
And was quickly convicted and lost his smug smile.
A noose was soon fetched
And Sam’s neck was stretched,
And the townsfolk commenced to party awhile.
History shows the Archer Gang had one of the longest crime waves.
But the end was the same: it sent them to their graves,
Where the outlaw soul
Has one place to go,
To Hell’s deepest hole with the volcanic caves.
© JW Thomas