A Bandit's Ballad

[Jamie]

I've been reading a book lately that chronicles in an encyclopedic manner the gunfighters of the West from about the end of the Civil War 'til the early 1900's.  There are the famous - Jessie James, etc. and the unknowns as well, hundreds of cut and dried entries documented from various sources.  It's interesting reading, but the further I go, the more the stories begin to run together in a theme.  A couple days ago I visited the Rockwell museum of Western art in Corning NY, and was further inspired.  This will probably become a song, but anyway, just a quick tale of woe...

From the day he was born, he lived there on the farm,
With his mother and father, keepin' him safe from harm.
They fed him and clothed him, taught him right from wrong,
And they hoped for the best, but it didn't last long.

He got tired of milkin', and of cutting the hay,
He got tired of the plantin' and working each day.
He got tired of doin' what someone else said,
He decided he rather be free or be dead.

Well ridin' and ropin' and roundin' up strays,
Won't make a man rich, but it's good honest pay.
But a fella who wants to stay loose and have fun,
Winds up at the wrong end of a noose or a gun.

He was sixteen years old, figured he was a man,
So he stole Daddy's gun, and Westward he ran.
He found a young mare in a pasture of grass,
So he stole the horse too, and he hoped she was fast.

He made him some silver a'racin' the mare,
And on several occasions, she helped save his hair.
The first bank he robbed she got him out of town,
With his pistol a'smokin' and two men on the ground.

Well ridin' and ropin' and roundin' up strays
Won't make a man rich, but it's good honest pay,
But a fella who wants to stay loose and have fun
Winds up on the wrong end of a noose or a gun.

It was just two banks later, as he left with the loot,
In his hurry to mount, he jabbed her with his boot.
With a sunfishin' jump she left him in the road,
And he was starin' through iron the next thing he knowed.

Well he stood on the scaffold with a tear in his eye,
His young life all but over starin' at the hemp tie.
They asked for last words there before he was dead,
First he pondered a moment, and then he sadly said.

"Well ridin' and ropin' and roundin' up strays,
Won't make a man rich, but it's good honest pay.
But a fella who wants to stay loose and have fun,
Winds up at the wrong end of a noose or a gun. "

[Elmer Watson]

Wow that is truely a ballad I hope you are successful in getting it recorded.