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We're goin' west to Kaintuck down the road to Moccasin Gap
Down the wilderness road The Dug Road the old Reedy Creek Road The Road down Troublesome Road through Moccasin Gap There was a time when goin' way out west meant goin' to Kaintuck The dark and bloody ground as Indians called it Indians wars were ragin' and men like Daniel Boone and Michael Stoner Came down the wilderness road like countless families did Through a place in south West Virginia called Big Moccasin Gap It's a hot day in '73 and this is my wife and my kids with me Daniel Boone lost his boy the other day young Jim Boone is dead twenty miles away The wagons turn and went back home even Daniel couldn't make it alone I guess prob'ly Daniel could but he stopped awhile in castle wood (If you love your wife and love your baby man Turn your wagons back as soon as you can Ev'ry Injun in these hills has gone berserk you never gonna make it to Kaintuck) Ah I bet I'm gonna make it to Kaintuck We're goin' west to Kaintuck down the road to Moccasin Gap Down the wilderness road The Dug Road the old Reedy Creek Road The Road down Troublesome Road through Moccasin Gap The Dug Road the old Reedy Creek Road The Road down Troublesome Road through Moccasin Gap |
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| 3. |
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Well they're building a gallows outside my cell I've got 25 minutes to go
And the whole town's waitin' just to hear me yell I've got 24 minutes to go Well they gave me some beans for my last meal I've got 23 minutes to go But nobody asked me how I feel I've got 22 minutes to go Well I sent for the governor and the whole dern bunch with 21 minutes to go And I sent for the mayor but he's out to lunch I've got 20 more minutes to go Then the sheriff said boy I gonna watch you die got 19 minutes to go So I laughed in his face and I spit in his eye got 18 minutes to go Now hear comes the preacher for to save my soul with 13 minutes to go And he's talking bout' burnin' but I'm so cold I've 12 more minutes to go Now they're testin' the trap and it chills my spine 11 more minutes to go And the trap and the rope aw they work just fine got 10 more minutes to go Well I'm waitin' on the pardon that'll set me free with 9 more minutes to go But this is for real so forget about me got 8 more minutes to go With my feet on the trap and my head on the noose got 5 more minutes to go Won't somebody come and cut me loose with 4 more minutes to go I can see the mountains I can see the skies with 3 more minutes to go And it's to dern pretty for a man that don't wanna die 2 more minutes to go I can see the buzzards I can hear the crows 1 more minute to go And now I'm swingin' and here I go-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o! |
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A cowpoke rode in one hot dusty day to a store down in old San Antone
He stood at the window and I heard him say do I have a letter from home The postmaster looked through the mail that had come Then smilingly shook his grey head The cowboke looked sadly a moment at him and these are the words that he said No letter from home no letter from home there's never a letter from home (No message from mother and none from the other) there's never a letter from home That night he was shot on the wrong side of town no more of those plains will he roam I reached for my Bible and gave it to him and said son here's your letter from home If only I had just a little more time to read it the young cowpoke said I can't take it with me and I must go on then he died with his letter unread The letter from home the letter from home no time for the letter from home (The cowboy laid dead with his letter unread) too late for the letter from home |
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As I walked out on the streets of Laredo.
As I walked out on Laredo one day, I spied a poor cowboy wrapped in white linen, Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay. "I can see by your outfit that you are a cowboy." These words he did say as I boldly walked by. "Come an' sit down beside me an' hear my sad story. "I'm shot in the breast an' I know I must die." "It was once in the saddle, I used to go dashing. "Once in the saddle, I used to go gay. "First to the card-house and then down to Rose's. "But I'm shot in the breast and I'm dying today." "Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin. "Six dance-hall maidens to bear up my pall. "Throw bunches of roses all over my coffin. "Roses to deaden the clods as they fall." "Then beat the drum slowly, play the Fife lowly. "Play the dead march as you carry me along. "Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o'er me, "I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong." "Then go write a letter to my grey-haired mother, "An' tell her the cowboy that she loved has gone. "But please not one word of the man who had killed me. "Don't mention his name and his name will pass on." When thus he had spoken, the hot sun was setting. The streets of Laredo grew cold as the clay. We took the young cowboy down to the green valley, And there stands his marker, we made, to this day. We beat the drum slowly and played the Fife lowly, Played the dead march as we carried him along. Down in the green valley, laid the sod o'er him. He was a young cowboy and he said he'd done wrong. |
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| 9. |
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[Introduction - A Cowboy's Prayer:]
Lord, I've never lived where churches grow I loved creation better As it stood That day you finished it so long ago And looked upon your work and Called it good I know that others find you in the light That sifted down through Tinted window panes And yet I seem to feel you near tonight In this dim, quiet Starlight on the plains I thank you, Lord, that I'm placed so well That you've Made my freedom so complete That I'm no slave to whistle, clock or bell Nor weak Eyed prisoner of Waller Street Just let me live my life as I've begun And give Me work that's open to the sky Make me a partner of the wind and sun And I won't Ask a life that's soft or high Let me be easy on the man that's down Let me be Square and generous with all I'm careless sometimes, Lord, when I'm in town But Never let them say I'm mean or small Make me as big and open as the plains And Honest as the horse between my knees Clean as a wind that blows behind the rains Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I Forget You know about the reasons that are hid You understand the things that Gall or fret Well, you knew me better than my mother did Just keep an eye on all That's done or said And right me Sometimes when I turn aside And guide me on that long, dim trail ahead That Stretched upward toward the great divide Oh, bury me not on the lone prairie These words came low and mournfully From the Pallid lips of a youth who lay On his dying bed at the close of day Oh, bury me not and his voice failed there But we took no heed to his dying Prayer In a shallow grave just six by three We buried him there on the lone Prairie. |
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