- Jonesie: [Throughout the episode Jonesie gradually sings this song one stanza at a time] From the hills at night the outlaw came, / Just running for to live, / And the pretty little girl never knew his name, / Still all her love she give.
- Jonesie: It's a sad, sad song that I'm singing, / It's a sad, sad tale that I tell, / About a love that a poor girl is bringing, / To a man who is destined for Hell.
- Jonesie: At the outlaw's heals the sheriff rode, / With a gun strapped to his side, / And the ever running man lived the outlaw's code, / Take love but never a bride.
- Jonesie: So chase went on both day and night, / With the sheriff gaining some, / 'Till they didn't give a hang who was right or wrong, / Just when the end would come.
- Jonesie: It's a sad, sad song that I'm singing, / It's a sad, sad tale that I tell, / About a love that a poor girl is bringing, / To a man who is destined for Hell.
- Jonesie: Now the outlaw faces the sheriff's gun, / On this night one man must die, / But no matter who sees the morning sun, / The girl is sure to cry.
- Jonesie: It's a sad, sad song that I'm singing, / It's a sad, sad tale that I tell, / About a death a sheriff is bringing, / To a man destined for Hell.
- Jonesie: And the outlaw lives like a running man, / With the next hill in his eye, / And they'll always be a sheriff with a gun in hand, / And a girl who'll surely cry.
- Narrator: [Epilog Closing Narration. Viewers see Richard Kimble thumbing a truck labeled "Checkerboard Van Lines" and hitching a ride] The storm has come and gone. But few of those who sought shelter together that night will forget it. And Richard Kimble, the next hill in his eye, will find occasions to look back and remember. A Fugitive has time for that.
- Narrator: [Opening Narration. Viewers see Richard Kimble working as a migrant worker in a vegetable field] The work is hard, to be endured from day to day. But here, just twenty miles north of the Gulf of Mexico, Richard Kimble has found reason to gain a new foothold on life; his first in a very long time.
- Jonesie: From the hills of night, the outlaw came, Just running for to live. And the pretty little girl never knew his name, Still all the love she'd give. And it's a sad, sad song that I am singing, It's a sad, sad tale that I tell 'Bout a love that a poor girl is bringing To a man who is destined for hell. At the outlaw's heels the sheriff rode With a gun strapped to his side And the ever-running man lived the outlaw's code: Take love, but never a bride. So the chase went on both day and night With the sheriff gaining some Till they didn't give a hang who was right or wrong, Just when the end would come. And it's a sad, sad song that I am singing, It's a sad, sad tale I tell 'Bout a love that a poor girl is bringing To a man who is destined for hell. Now, the outlaw faces the sheriff's gun On this night, on man will die, But no matter who it is sees the morning sun, The girl is sure to cry. And it's a sad, sad song that I am singing It's a sad, sad tale that I tell 'Bout a death that a sheriff is bringing To a man who is destined for hell. Now, the outlaw faces the sheriff's gun, On this night one man will die, And no matter who it is sees the morning sun, The girl is sure to cry. And the outlaw lived like a running man With the next hill in his eye, And there'll always be a sheriff with a gun in hand And a girl who'll surely cry.