About The Song
“Mr. Shorty” is a western narrative song written and recorded by Marty Robbins and released in 1959 as part of his landmark album Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs. Issued by Columbia Records, the album marked a decisive turn in Robbins’s career, shifting his focus toward concise, cinematic storytelling rooted in the mythology of the American West. “Mr. Shorty” was included as an album track and helped establish the record’s dark, morally focused tone.
The album was recorded in Nashville under producer Don Law and stood apart from most country releases of the time by presenting a cohesive collection of short western ballads. Rather than romanticizing frontier violence, Robbins used these songs to explore consequence and personal responsibility. “Mr. Shorty” fits squarely within this concept, presenting a brief but complete story centered on justice rather than adventure.
Lyrically, the song tells the story of a young boy who witnesses the killing of his father by an outlaw known as Mr. Shorty. Years later, the boy grows up and ultimately confronts and kills the man responsible. Robbins presents the narrative in a direct, chronological manner, emphasizing inevitability rather than revenge fantasy. The song’s final resolution is delivered without celebration, reinforcing the album’s recurring theme that violence carries lasting consequences.
Musically, “Mr. Shorty” is arranged in a restrained western style. Acoustic guitar anchors the arrangement, supported by subtle rhythm and minimal instrumental accents. The tempo is steady and deliberate, allowing the story to unfold clearly. The lack of dramatic musical embellishment keeps the listener’s attention fixed on the narrative itself.
Marty Robbins’s vocal performance is calm and authoritative. He adopts the role of an objective storyteller, avoiding emotional exaggeration even as the song depicts murder and retribution. This controlled delivery enhances the song’s seriousness and aligns with Robbins’s broader approach on Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs, where moral clarity is achieved through understatement.
Although “Mr. Shorty” was not released as a single, it became widely known through the success of the album, which sold strongly and remained influential for decades. The record’s enduring popularity ensured that even its non-single tracks reached a broad audience and became staples of Robbins’s legacy.
In retrospect, “Mr. Shorty” is regarded as one of the defining tracks of Marty Robbins’s western canon. Its concise structure, moral focus, and disciplined performance exemplify his mastery of short-form storytelling. The song remains a respected deep cut and continues to appear on reissues and compilations documenting Robbins’s lasting contribution to narrative country and western music.
Video
Lyric
Nobody knew where he came from
They only knew he came in
Slowly he walked to the end of the bar
And he ordered up one slug of ginWell, I could see that he wasn’t a large man
I could tell that he wasn’t too tall
I judged him to be ’bout five-foot three
And his voice was a soft Texas drawlSaid he was needin’ some wages
‘Fore he could ride for the west
Said he could do most all kind of work
Said he could ride with the bestThere in his blue eyes was sadness
That comes from the need of a friend
And tho’ he tried, he still couldn’t hide
The loneliness there, deep withinSaid he would work thru the winter
For thirty a month and his board
I started to say where he might land a job
When a fellow came in thru the doorAnd I could tell he was lookin’ for trouble
From the way that he came stompin’ in
He told me to leave Shorty there by himself
Come down and wait on a manThe eyes of the little man narrowed
The smile disappeared from his face
Gone was the friendliness that I had seen
And a wild look of hate took its’ placeBut the big one continued to mock him
And he told me that I’d better go
Find him a couple of glasses of milk
Then maybe Shorty would growWhen the little man spoke, there was stillness
He made sure that everyone heard
Slowly he stepped away from the bar
And I still remember these wordsOh! it’s plain that you’re lookin’ for trouble
Trouble’s what I try to shun
If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get
Cause cowboy, we’re both packin’ gunsHis hand was already positioned
Feet wide apart on the floor
I hadn’t noticed but there on his hip
Was a short-barreled Bass Forty-FourIt was plain he was ready and waitin’
He leaned a bit forward and said
When you call me Shorty, say Mister, my friend
Maybe you’d rather be dead
In the room was a terrible silence
As the big one stepped out on the floor
All drinkin’ stopped and the tick of the clock
Said death would wait ten seconds moreHe cursed once or twice in a whisper
And he said with a snarl on his lips
Nobody’s Mister to me, little man!
And he grabbed for the gun on his hipsBut the little man’s hands was like lightning
The Bass Forty-Four was the same
The Forty-Four spoke and it sent lead and smoke
And seventeen inches of flameFor the big one had never cleared leather
Beaten before he could start
A little round hole had appeared on his shirt
The bullet went clear thru his heartThe little man stood there a moment
Then holstered the Bass Forty-Four
It’s always this way so I never stay
Slowly he walked out the doorNobody knew where he came from
They won’t forget he came by
They won’t forget how a Forty-Four gun
One night made the difference in size
As for me, I’ll remember the sadness
Shown in the eyes of the man
If we meet someday, you can bet I would say
That it’s me, Mr. Shorty, your friend