There must be someone out there better able
To tell this story, but, by the grace of God
I’m the only one you’ve got
So, Lord, please help me do it right
Just this one time, and tell the tale
Of the toughest hombre I ever saw,
Who rode into into our town at dawn
With the sun heeling behind him,
Like an old yellow dog, and the desert
Hushed up just like before a storm.
He drove the bandits out, and
Caught the eye of the Widow Kate, but then,
Hung the scalp of the Coyote Chieftan
On my church door, stirring up a mess of trouble,
Which he tried grimly to resolve
With his Winchester repeater, and his Bowie knife,
And his Palamino stallion,
Who yet could not outrace the burning arrows
That buried the Widow Kate
In the cinders of her homestead
Sending this tired stranger into the desert again
Clutching a ruined scrap of calico