Friday, January 23, 2009
The Lonely Cowboy
On the great western plains of Illinois
Rides a man, alone. A sad cowboy
By the damnest damn lies were ever contrived
He’s hunted and wanted: dead or alive.
From the streets of Laredo to Springfield’s Dome
There ain’t noplace nowhere that he can call home
So he huddles by campfires and warbles his songs
And tries not to think of the ways he’s been wronged.
Now old Sheriff Ellis and all of his pals
Assemble their posse at Senate Corral
Collecting their feathers and boiling their tar
And hangin their rope from the town’s highest bar
A shadow’s come over our Cowboy’s creased face
Since mean frontier justice took over this place
Cause after his hangin, and he’s in the dust
Ain’t no one to stop ‘em from comin at us.