We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.
Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
“Remember when we used to play?”
Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
, I used to shoot you down.
Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells
Now he’s gone, I don’t know wh y
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn’t even say goodbye
He didn’t take the time to lie.
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down
"Nancy Sinatra"
یکی از محاسن آهنگهای غربی اینه که اکثرا سیر داستان گونه و گاها حقیقی از یک واقعه و رویداد رو بیان میکنند. و چقدر قشنگ داستان و زعم خودشون رو به قالب شعر ملبس میکنن. تجدید خاطره قشنگی بود با شنیدن دوباره این آهنگ
ترانه بالا رو نانسی سیناترا خونده . همین