They Left Him Where He Fell
By Gunslinger
Riding through the desert- Just south of Santa Fe. Moving with the darkness- And hiding in the day... A posse is behind me- They'll hang me if they can. Because my gun was faster, Than a wealthy local man's. I've scouted for the army, Rode shotgun for awhile... I've been a City Marshall, But that really ain't my style. I like the lonely country- Places no white man has seen... Known only to Apaches... Some barren, and some green. I come from down in Texas, Down on the Rio Grande, I once rode with the Rangers, And helped to tame the land... But now my day is over- And they have me on the run, They once bragged about my fast draw, And now they hate my gun... No doubt they're gonna get me, My horse is going lame. But they ain't gonna lynch me- I could not bear the shame... I'll go out, pistol blazing- It's how I want to die, My boots on, and my head up, Let them leave me where I lie. I'll have no one to mourn me, But that is just as well- Just say, "He died the way he lived, They left him where he fell." Written December 28th, 2001 © on Dec 27 2001 03:17 PM PST, John R. Yaws 0 • 10
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"Riding through the desert-..."